The New Empire
by SithMasterJosh
Summary: What if Luke embraced the Dark Side aboard the second Death Star and became Darth Sidious' new Apprentice? In book 1 of an epic trilogy, we see Luke's first steps on the road to greatness as a Dark Lord of the Sith.
1. Fall of a Son

**Chapter 1: Fall of a Son**

"All craft prepare to go into hyperspace on my mark!" The Mon Calamari admiral's mouth tendrils were squirming with anxiety. The tense atmosphere aboard the Rebel command ship _Home One_ was practically tangible; the Rebel Alliance was preparing to launch their largest offensive yet against the Empire.

The Empire's newest technological terror, a second Death Star even larger than the first, was being secretly constructed in orbit over the Forest Moon of Endor. The moon was a sanctuary, a protected wildlife preserve. The Empire's decision to despoil it with devices of war was despicable; the horror of waging battle above such a peaceful world was not lost on Alliance leadership. But the presence of the Death Star was too great to overlook. The new battle station had been heavily upgraded from the original design; at over nine hundred kilometers wide, it dwarfed the original battle station. Its thermal exhaust ports, the terminal flaw which had led to the destruction of the first Death Star over Yavin IV, had been replaced with micro vents placed in millions of locations around the station's surface. A newly designed superlaser would permit the monstrous battle station to fire its primary planet-crushing weapon with greater accuracy and with significantly shorter rest periods between shots. Once complete, it would be virtually invulnerable to any attack.

As well as the second Death Star's current location, Rebel spies had also learned that Emperor Palpatine himself was personally overseeing the final stages of construction. This would be their best and last chance to destroy the Empire once and for all. Whatever happened, the Battle of Endor was going change the face of galactic history for generations to come.

As the Rebel fleet emerged from hyperspace, the admiral knew something had gone terribly wrong.

_**Earlier, aboard Death Star II…**_

He would continue kneeling with his ebony gaze directed at the floor until his master acknowledged him. His discipline, and in no small part, his artificial limbs, allowed him to wait in this position for hours. His master taught him such patience. And little else. The Emperor stood with his back to Lord Vader, staring off into the void of space in deep meditation. His distorted image was reflected in the black soulless eyes of a plasteel helmet.

The shriveled, ancient human standing before him had turned his immeasurable power inward, seeking to untangle the lines of fate and see what was to come. Through the Force, Palpatine could see the future, the outcome of battles. Even now, Vader knew he was having a premonition.

"The time has come, my friend," Palpatine croaked, finally turning to face his apprentice. His voice was like old paper, dusty and crumbling. "Very soon we may expect to have company. I foresaw a hodgepodge Rebel force joining us; they have taken our bait. They will send a smaller force to penetrate the deflector shield and land upon the surface of the Sanctuary Moon. They mean to destroy the shield generator. You will send a detachment down to intercept them. The Rebel Skywalker will be with them." The Emperor carefully noted Vader's reaction to the last piece of information.

Vader snapped his head up at the mention of his son, unable to hide his surprise.

"These next hours are critical, Lord Vader," the Emperor warned as he sat himself down on his throne; he gazed down at his faithful servant. "You must not question my orders," he commanded. "We will finally crush this pitiful 'rebellion,' my friend, and order will once again befall the galaxy."

For a moment, Palpatine stared down at his apprentice in silence. Vader said nothing; the rhythmic sounds of his cybernetic lung echoed in the cavernous room.

As the old Sith sat on his throne atop his tower aboard his Death Star he knew that his apprentice intended to betray him; it was the way of the Sith. There comes a time when a confrontation between Master and Apprentice must take place. However, regardless of how he once felt about Vader, Palpatine had no intentions of allowing the broken creature before him to succeed him as reigning Dark Lord. Vader's consideration for that Master's mantle had been lost in the fires of Mustafar, along with his three remaining limbs and fully half his power in the Force.

_I have taught him what I can,_ he mused inwardly_. He cannot hope to master the rest. I require a new Apprentice, one who can master the Force as I have, one who has no such physical imitations. If the son of Skywalker can be turned, he will make an apt pupil._ He knew he would have to be on guard at all times during Skywalker's journey toward the Dark Side. If Vader sensed the boy had turned, he could harness his son's newfound power and use it against the Emperor. Vader's only hope was to unite with his son's power; together, the pair would pose a significant danger. The Emperor knew he would need to be prepared to eliminate his apprentice the instant this happened. Perhaps, if he could manage it, he would have Skywalker kill Vader for him. What better act to consummate one's embracing of the Dark Side was there than to kill one's own father?

"This insurrection has continued too long, Master." Vader finally broke his silence, his deep artificial timbre reverberating off the high walls. "We _will_ triumph." _But you will not live to see the end, old man. _"The Rebellion grows weak. Its defeat is inevitable. This attack is bred from desperation." He was anxiously anticipating the coming conflict. The Rebellion had been destructive and chaotic. Order _would_ again be brought to the galaxy after nearly two decades of dissent, but with _Vader_ as Emperor and his son ruling by his side. Palpatine would die along with the Rebels.

When he imagined confronting his son again, he was briefly touched by the faintest glimmer of joy. He quickly suppressed the emotion; all joy was kept locked away deep in the darkest reaches of his soul, where the dimmest light still shone. For years, he had tried to extinguish that light but to no avail. It was the part of Obi-Wan that he knew would never leave him. If the Emperor ever learned of this light…As important as he may be to the Emperor, he was hardly indispensable.

The Emperor had turned round and was gazing back at the stars when he spoke again. Vader continued to kneel. "You will go to your flagship and wait for a shuttle to request ground clearance. You will not stop them. I want you to go to the surface and take care of them _personally_. They will be arriving shortly; you needn't wait long." It was clear that Vader was being dismissed.

The Emperor's eyes seemed to pierce Vader's armor as the hulking Sith Lord rose to his feet. _Does he suspect my treasonous thoughts?_ wondered Vader. _Of course he does. But what is he waiting for?_

"As you wish, my Master." Vader turned on his heel and marched back to the turbolift, his cape flaring out behind him. As the lift doors closed, Vader could see the Emperor still turned toward the stars in meditation.

As the Emperor predicted, an Imperial shuttle requested ground clearance shortly after Vader arrived on the bridge of the Empire's flagship, _Executor_. The crown jewel of the Imperial Starfleet, she was the first of the _Executor_-class Star Dreadnoughts.

"Where is that shuttle going?" Vader inquired of the commanding officer, a gaunt man with a long face and sagging cheeks. He felt a subtle disturbance in the Force coming from the shuttle.

The commander, Admiral Firmus Piett, bent down to speak into the comm. "Shuttle _Tyderium_, what is your cargo and destination?" he demanded.

"_Parts and technical group for the Forest Moon_." Vader turned to Piett, instantly recognizing the voice as that of one-time smuggler and Rebel general Han Solo. All at once, the disturbance became clear. _Luke!_ He sensed that his son was anxious, afraid. Fear gnawed at the boy like a parasite. That was good. Fear could be turned into anger, hate. Fear was a path to the Dark Side.

"Do they have a code clearance?" the Dark Lord asked, not that it mattered. He had his orders from the Emperor himself to allow them passage.

"It's an older code, sir," Piett admitted, standing up straight. "But it checks out. I _was_ about to clear them." The Admiral knew it was impossible to lie to the Dark Lord and that those who did rarely survived to repeat the offense. "Would you like me to hold them, sir?"

"No," Vader said sharply. "Leave them to _me_. I'll take care of them myself." Without further explanation, he lumbered off the bridge leaving a stunned crew in his wake to exchange puzzled glances.

Palpatine sat in quiet contemplation, listening to the gentle hum that issued from the heart of the massive battle station. His throne was turned to the tranquility of the stars, which passed by slowly with the Death Star's geosynchronous orbit around the Endor Moon. _Each one of them, loyal to me,_ he ruminated with a grin._ The expanse of the galaxy belongs to me. Yes still I desire _more_._

As much as he had, he wanted more. From his days with the Old Republic Senate, he had ambitions of absolute power, of direct rule of the galaxy. Now that he had it, he wished to expand that ruling further beyond any who reigned before him. At that very moment he had agents exploring the Unknown Regions, as well as the turbulent space along the galactic rim. He aspired, perhaps romantically, to become the first ever to exert influence beyond the confines of the known galaxy. The very universe could someday be at his withered fingertips.

Unexpectedly, he sensed his apprentice approaching; he knew instantly, of course, the reason for this interruption. "Still that child the Jedi found on Tatooine," he muttered in annoyance.

"Master," Vader called out as he marched past a pair of Red Robes guarding the turbolift. He slowed his pace as he approached the Emperor. "A small rebel force has penetrated the deflector shield," he announced.

Aggravated that Vader felt the need to return to the Death Star to inform him of that which he already knew, Palpatine spat, "Yes, I know."

The armored Dark Lord could feel a wave of his master's ire pour over him. "My _son_ is with them." The Emperor feigned a subtle look of surprise.

"You're sure?" he asked his apprentice. _His feelings for the boy are too great_, Palpatine decided._ His betrayal may come sooner than expected. He _may_ not bring him before me. That would be a grievous mistake._

"I have felt him, my Master," answered Vader. _Of course I'm sure. He's my _son_! _

"Strange that _I_ have not. Are you sure your feelings on this matter are clear, Lord Vader?" Certainly Palpatine _had_ detected the boy's presence, but he needed to get a sense of just how attached Vader was to him. He had his answer and it was the one he expected. Betrayal was soon to come.

"They are clear, my Master." If possible, Vader's words were even icier than usual. Even his breath sounded more menacing.

"Then you must go to him. In time he will seek _you_ out." The Emperor pretended not to notice the sizable ripples Vader was making in the Force. He needed to ensure he came off as ignorant and unaware of Vader's intentions despite the blundering fool practically screaming them out for all to hear. Vader was always as subtle as a turbolaser.

"_He_ will come to _me_?" echoed Vader, clearly skeptical. _What else does he know that he's not telling me?_

"I have foreseen it." Without another word, the Emperor turned again to the blackness of space, leaving Vader in silence to carry out his instructions and plan his next move.

"Prepare a shuttle for immediate departure to the surface." Vader went directly to the nearest shuttle bay and had approached the first pilot he saw.

Without a word, the young man hurried to a shuttle and began prepping it for launch; within five minutes, the Sith Lord was rocketing toward the tree-strewn surface of the moon. Vader observed wispy white clouds gathering cyclonically around the northern hemisphere, the beginnings of a very large storm to be. There was an expanse of mountains and desert that Vader had failed to notice on previous flybys. He saw very little growth so he stretched out with the Force and felt almost no life at all. It reminded him a little too much of home.

During the short flight Vader contacted the garrison commander, who was in charge of security for all Imperial activities on Endor. He highly doubted many precautions had to be made, but the Rebels had proven themselves repeatedly to be skilled at striking when the Empire least expected it. The tiny figure of a man appeared on the comm's holoplate.

"Commander Yorik," Vader boomed. "Inform only your top officers of my presence and have security _tripled_. I don't want any mistakes made or I will hold you _personally_ responsible, Commander." For good measure, he gave the man's throat a quick squeeze across the void.

"_Y-yes, sir. Right away, sir_." Before he could say anything else, Vader cut the transmission, leaving a stunned garrison commander rubbing his molested throat.

The commander was young, probably fresh out of the academy, still shining his boots and starching his collar. Still loyal. And now he had a taste of what would befall him should he fail.

Within moments of the short conversation terminating, the shuttle set down on the tall quadrupedal landing platform. The ramp lowered with a whine and coolant steam gushed from vents to either side. Vader marched down, stepping onto the paved surface of the platform; gravel crunched beneath his boots and a soft breeze licked at his cape. It was dusk now and he looked off toward the horizon where the sun was setting, painting the sky with brilliant streaks of red and purple and gold. The gas giant that was the moon's namesake was beginning to rise in the dark west, casting a dim greenish light over the forest. As he inspected his surroundings, he knew the hunters would soon be out to feast. He was merely the first.

Night on the Forest Moon was full of sound. Far off in the distance, Vader's cybernetic hearing picked up a strangled cry which was abruptly cut off. Much closer, he saw a large dragon-like creature flying low over the trees. A moment later, a massive fur covered hand shot out of the leaves and snagged the flying reptile in its claws, dragging it down into the canopy to its death with a short squawk of protest. _There's always a bigger fish_, he thought to himself.

The pristine forest stretched on and on for kilometers in all directions, broken only by the enormous shield generator dish five kilometers away. Flora had closed in around the compound almost as fast as it had been cleared away. As the planet rose higher in the sky, its light grew more intense and the radiation it threw off dispersed in the upper atmosphere to create brilliant dancing auroras of green and blue. The shadows themselves seemed to come alive as wind brushed by the trees. The Sith Lord's mechanically enhanced vision picked up several sets of shining eyes peering out from the forest, dotting the trees.

He stood at the railed edge of the enormous landing pad that thrust up twenty-five meters from the forest floor, surveying the landscape. Floodlights on the platform shone brightly into the trees and the animals of the forest knew to stay away. Vader craned his neck to peer down and saw the carcasses of several large creatures, carnivores, shot by soldiers and placed to deter any further encroachment by other animals. Even through all the filters in his mask, the scent of death was sickly sweet in his nose.

He felt Luke's presence nearby, off somewhere to the south but drawing closer. He was alright, frightened, but he attempted to hide it. Vader could also sense a deep sadness in his son. And something else he couldn't quite pin down. Anxiety? Yes, but not about his confrontation with the Emperor. It was something else, something elusive. Perhaps he'd get a better read of his son in person. It wouldn't be long now before he was reunited with his son. The realization brought a faint smile to the disfigured face locked inside its ebony prison.

_Then we can destroy the Emperor and rule as father and son!_

"Lord Vader?" A young man with a commander's bars called out, breaking into Vader's thoughts. The commander's anxiety was palpable; the man practically reeked of fear as he approached the black-clad Sith.

"Yes, Commander?" Vader growled, not bothering to mask his annoyance at the disturbance. He briefly toyed with the idea of killing him but ultimately decided against it. It was a pointless waste of a loyal Imperial officer. There seemed to be fewer and fewer these days. Besides, whatever satisfaction he would gain would be fleeting at best. "Mind you, I do not like being disturbed for trivial matters. This had better be good."To emphasize, he raised his fist and tightened it in a threatening gesture. The man, knowing Vader's reputation, instinctively put a protective hand to his throat.

"My Lord," he started meekly. Making a conscious effort to ignore Vader's clutched fist, he slowly lowered his hand from his neck. "A Rebel has surrendered to us. Lieutenant Kavil is bringing him as we speak, sir. They should be here in moments." Vader dropped his hand back to his side and turned his head slightly to scan the forest. Off in the distance, he heard the heavy footfalls of the advancing AT-AT.

"That's good news, Commander. I will meet them personally when they arrive. Return to your post."

"Right away, sir." He gave Vader a short bow and left as fast as his standard issue boots would allow. Vader noticed the relief on the man's face when he was dismissed. His gnarled lips parted in a grin. He still enjoyed bringing fear to those weaker than he. He much preferred fear over respect. It was the only way to ensure total compliance.

Vader turned back to the night and gave a barely audible sigh. _The time is come when we shall meet our destinies, _he thought to himself, remembering the old saying. He gave one last glance over the forest, the wind kicking up the edges of his cape, and moved to the nearest lift.

The AT-AT's whining hydraulics droned loudly as it made its final preparations before docking. While the walker docked with the platform, Vader instructed several stormtroopers to follow him down to meet the passengers. The Sith Lord and his entourage were greeted by Lieutenant Kavil, who was trailed by Skywalker and a backing of three stormtroopers of his own. Luke looked solemn, clothed entirely in black. His hands were in binders. He looked directly at Vader's face, somehow bypassing the plasteel lenses to meet the eyes behind them.

"This is the Rebel that surrendered to us," Kavil reported proudly. "Although he denies it, I believe there may be more of them and I request permission to conduct a further search of the area. He was armed only with _this_." He produced a cylindrical object and placed it in Vader's large gloved hand.

"Good work, Lieutenant. Leave us. Conduct your search and bring his companions to me."

"Yes, Milord." Kavil gave a curt nod and returned to the bowels of the walker.

"The Emperor has been expecting you," Vader announced. He did not look at his son as they walked.

"I know, Father." Luke's words carried no emotion; his face was devoid of any expression. The Force told a different story, however. Beneath that calm exterior was a frothing sea of apprehension.

"So, you have accepted the truth." Vader could not deny that he found himself pleased.

"I have accepted the truth that you were once Anakin Skywalker, my father," Luke countered.

"That name no longer has any meaning for me!" Vader barked. The sound of his own name let loose a flood of rage that washed over him. It reminded him of the weak, pathetic man he once was; it was a name from a time he would sooner forget. It reminded him of _her_. He gnashed his teeth in anger.

"It's the name of your true self, you've only forgotten! I know there is good in you," Luke pressed. "The Emperor hasn't driven it from you fully." He turned and moved slowly to the guardrail, staring out at the dark forest. "That was why you couldn't destroy me." He went on, resting his bound hands on the railing. Vader took note of the black glove covering Luke's right hand, the hand lost during their last encounter, the hand he himself had severed on Cloud City. His mind wandered briefly to his own right arm, to the events that led to its loss, the _first_ time, and how it had likewise been at the blade of a Sith Lord. "That is why you won't bring me to your Emperor now," Luke finished, bringing Vader back to the present.

There was a familiar _snap-hiss_ behind Skywalker; he stole a quick glance over his right shoulder and spied Vader holding his now active lightsaber, its emerald blade humming.

"I see you have constructed a new lightsaber," Vader said as he examined the hilt. There was a subtle note of pride in his voice; it the pride that a father has for his son. "Your skills are complete." He deactivated the weapon and began walking away. "Indeed you _are_ powerful, as the Emperor has foreseen."

"Come with me," Luke pleaded abruptly. He saw Vader hesitate a moment, stopped in his tracks.

"Obi-Wan once thought as you do," Vader responded, keeping his back to his son. Turning around, he addressed his son with a more forceful tone. "You don't know the _power_ of the Dark Side. I _must_ obey my Master!"

Luke's plea turned then to defiance. "I will not turn and you'll be forced to kill me."

"If that is your destiny," said Vader coldly. _Fool!_ he raged internally._ Why do you insist upon fighting it? It will be easier to give in to your feelings._

Luke refused to concede defeat, however hopeless it seemed. "Search your feelings, Father. You can't do this. I feel the conflict within you. Let go of your hate!"

"It is too late for me, Son," Vader responded softly. The sadness in his voice caught Luke off guard. A small tremor seemed to pass through Vader, as if he was waking from a trance, and he motioned for the stormtroopers. "The Emperor will show you the _true_ nature of the Force. _He_ is your master now." _For the time being_, he added silently.

Luke accepted defeat now. "Then my father is truly dead." The stormtroopers escorted him to the turbolift, where he would then be taken to a holding cell until their departure the next morning. Father and son shared one last fleeting look before the door slid shut and Vader was left alone with the night.

Vader entered the communications center and immediately contacted the Emperor. "He surrendered just as you predicted, Master. He was captured not an hour ago. We will depart for the Death Star at first light. There is… much fear in him. I believe that he can be turned."

"_Yes, very good, Lord Vader._" The old man's horribly disfigured face flickered with static. "_He is powerful. It will take us both to turn him._" To Vader, he was but a meter tall disembodied head floating above the projector. "_I sense something troubling in you, a certain uneasiness. Are you willing to kill him if need be?_" the Emperor demanded.

"If that is his destiny," Vader said, echoing the words he said to Luke.

"_I wonder if your feelings on the matter _are_ clear, as you so adamantly assured me earlier,_" the Emperor scoffed. "_You are not so important to me that I will put up with insubordination. Never forget that, Lord Vader. You are my tool. When a craftsman's tool wears out, he _replaces_ it._" Before Vader could assure his Master that he was _not_ a worn tool, Palpatine ended the transmission.

After speaking with his Master, Vader was left with a decidedly bitter taste in his mouth. He retired to his quarters and meditated until sunrise, clearing his mind and organizing his thoughts for the coming events. He was brought out of his Force-induced trance by a chime at his door hours later. "Enter," he boomed. He knew it was Kavil informing him that it was time to depart.

"Lord Vader, it is time," the lieutenant informed him. "The Emperor requests your audience immediately." This made Vader smile for the third time in two days. The Emperor does not request. The Emperor commands. The Emperor _takes_.

Lieutenant Kavil remained in the doorway a moment, waiting for a response. When he received none, he backed out into the corridor and strode off.

Vader stood, buried all of his anxiety, and walked out to face his destiny.

Luke was already seated onboard the shuttle when Vader marched up the ramp and strode into the passenger cabin. He did not look at his son as he passed by to take his seat. It was Skywalker who broke the silence. "Good morning, Father."

"I do not notice such things." Anakin had not appreciated the beauty of a sunrise in over two decades. "You will soon be with your new master," Vader said. "Be warned, he is not as tolerant as I. Do not do anything…_foolish_." That was the extent of the conversation during the twenty minute flight. Vader glanced over at his son several times, pleading silently that he would make the smart decision and not get himself killed. He had thought his child died with _her_…He couldn't bear to lose him a second time, not so soon after learning that he had survived.

The immense structure of the unfinished Death Star loomed ominously in the front view screen, growing ever larger as they approached. The shuttle was heading for a nondescript bay at the equator of the station. As the Death Star drew closer, the seemingly smooth surface flattened out to reveal its vast, rough network of skyscrapers and towers that rivaled even Coruscant. The anticipation swelled in Luke as they glided through the protective field closing off the bay from the cold vacuum of space.

As the shuttle set down on the deck of the hangar, Luke felt a powerful dark presence that could only be emanating from the Emperor. It felt like a fog over his head, dulling his ability to focus and feel the Force flowing through him. For him to have such a marked reaction from such a long distance away would require a darksider of staggering power. It would be difficult to resist that level of power. He was barely able to suppress his shudder.

Luke and Vader departed the shuttle, which took off immediately after the two were clear of the bay. It was making way for another fast approaching shuttle. For a moment, Luke thought he sensed something. He tried to concentrate but the dark energy infusing the entire station was dampening his abilities. He couldn't trust anything he sensed until he managed to clear his mind and get his focus back. He needed to prepare himself for the mental battle he was about to face.

As they walked, Luke's mind raced with fear and anxiety. Visions of himself bowing to the Emperor crept into his head, playing out in the back of his mind. The images were so clear, so complete down to the tiniest detail that he could almost reach out and touch the figures. He saw them as clearly as if he were recalling a memory; this was no memory, however. His head swam as he contemplated the possibility of his failure, as he imagined the consequences should he succumb to the Dark Side. Vader was nowhere to be seen. He saw the Emperor smile at him. Though he had only ever seen the Emperor a few times on grainy holonews feeds, his wrinkled, disfigured face was clear. The old man was draped in heavy black robes; one deathly pale hand reached out and rested on Luke's shoulder as he kneeled. Luke saw his own lips move. He could almost hear the word "master" whisper faintly in his ear. That startled Luke back to reality. He took a deep breath as they passed through hallways and corridors, steeling himself against the darkness that bled from the very walls. He hadn't failed yet and dwelling on other possibilities only served to distract him from his mission.

Vader led them through a complex series of corridors and lifts. Luke could feel the Emperor's presence growing stronger as they drew nearer. They finally arrived at a turbolift protected by two menacing red-clad guards who stood sentinel on either side of the tube. Both guards had a long force pike slung over his shoulder. Their helmeted visage was menacing to the extreme; their black faceplates stared forward, unmoving, always at attention. These were the Royal Guards, personal protectors of the Emperor, stormtrooper elite. They were trained in the art of hand-to-hand combat. They were the most lethal force the Emperor had besides his own mind. Rebel Intelligence had never been able to discover where they trained or even how many there were. There could be eight, eighty, or eight _thousand_ for all anyone knew.

Vader motioned for Luke to enter the turbolift. He followed his son inside and after the door closed, it took the lift a handful of heavy heartbeats to reach the top of the one hundred story tower. When it came to a stop, Luke felt the dark presence stronger than ever radiating from the room. It was very nearly unbearable.

Silently, the door slid open to reveal an enormous room, dominated by a large central platform. A giant transparisteel window took up one wall, opening to the blackness of space. On the platform sat a lone object: the Emperor's throne, its back turned to the two figures who were crossing the room. The room was sparsely lit and foreboding with deep shadows in the myriad corners and crevices. The Dark Side was strong in this place. Luke hadn't felt anything like it since the tree cave on Dagobah. Off to one side, a huge pit seemed to drop into oblivion, going down into the thrumming core of the battle station. He was reminded briefly his recent encounter with the Sarlacc, staring down into its seemingly bottomless maw.

Without warning throne rotated dramatically to face them. A frighteningly familiar sight stared back at him with evil eyes that gleamed yellow from the shadows of its hood. The figure seated before him may have been human at one point; his skin was sickly pale like that of a cadaver and his face was utterly ravaged by time and the unimaginable darkness housed within his withered body. He was shrouded in heavy black robes which gave him the appearance of an amorphous shadow, further adding to the already deep mystery surrounding him. Despite his aged appearance, he carried an unmistakable air of great power. He was not one to be underestimated and was without question the most dangerous being in the galaxy.

"Welcome, young Skywalker. I have been expecting you," the Sith Master purred. The old man's voice was ancient but powerful. It radiated authority. "You will no longer need those," he said, looking to Luke's bound wrists. With a wave of his hand, the wrist binders clattered to the floor. He directed his attention over Luke's shoulder to the far side of the cavernous room. "Guards, leave us!" The Red Robes filed out without question. He looked back at Luke, his penetrating gaze seemingly taking stock of every atom in his body. Vader and Skywalker climbed the steps to confront the Emperor on level ground. "I look forward to completing your training. In time, you will call me 'Master'."

Luke mustered up all of his courage. "You are gravely mistaken," he proclaimed defiantly. Vader was shocked by his audacity. "You won't convert me as you did my father."

"Oh no, my young Jedi," Palpatine responded calmly. He stood and moved towards Luke as he spoke. "You will find that it is you who are mistaken, about a great many things."

"His lightsaber," said Vader as he presented the trophy to his master. The Emperor took it in his hands and examined it much as Vader had done. He ran his fingers over its surface the way one would examine a piece of art, as though he was trying to detect some flaw in its construction. Luke was disgusted to see his precious weapon in the pale bony hands of the Sith Master.

"Ah, yes. A Jedi's weapon, much like your father's. By now you must know that he can never be turned from the Dark Side. So will it be with you." He seemed to be daring Luke to argue, to be bold and speak out against him again. He was not disappointed.

"You're wrong," said Luke. "Soon I'll be dead and you with me." It was from this place, he realized, that he drew his strength. He knew that regardless of happened between him and Vader and the Emperor, however the events in that room played out, it would all be over in a matter of hours when the Rebellion destroyed the Death Star and the three of them along with it.

The Emperor chuckled at Skywalker's bold claim. It was the most disturbing sound Luke had ever heard. It was dry and…evil, a hateful cackle, and it sent a shiver through Luke's core.

"Perhaps you refer to the imminent attack of your Rebel Fleet." Palpatine chuckled again as Skywalker's eyes widened. "Yes, I assure you, we are quite safe from your _friends _here!"

"Your overconfidence is your weakness," Luke stated calmly, trying to suppress his surprise and utter horror that the Rebel's plan, which counted so much on secrecy, was already discovered.

_You cannot challenge the Emperor and win_, thought Vader, who remained silent during the exchange. This whole battle of wits between his son and his Master worried him. It was getting out of hand. A confrontation would break out soon and he knew who would emerge from it victorious.

"Your faith in your friends is yours!" retorted the Emperor with a disgusted sneer.

Luke knew he had struck a chord. He could feel Palpatine's rage growing like a whirling storm gaining strength with every passing second. The sensation was enough to frighten away whatever self-satisfaction he may have felt.

"It is pointless to resist, my son." Vader did not want his son to be destroyed and he could sense the Emperor losing his patience with Luke's insolence. _The boy will get himself killed, _thought Vader. _If that happens t__hen the old man will die._

The Emperor sat back down on his throne and, to Luke's astonishment, actually smiled.

"Everything that has transpired has done so according to _my_ design. Your friends, up there on the Sanctuary Moon, are walking into a trap. As is your Rebel Fleet." He smiled malevolently, baring his crooked brown teeth. "It was _I_ that allowed the Alliance to know the location of the shield generator," he boasted. "It is quite safe from your pitiful little _band_."

With each word, Luke lost more and more hope for success. The entire plan had relied solely on catching the Empire unawares. The fleet was going to be wiped out and Luke could do nothing to stop it. He couldn't even get a message out to warn them away. The well from which he had been drawing his strength had run dry and left a gaping hole of despair behind.

"An entire _legion _of my best troops awaits them," Palpatine proclaimed. "Oh, I'm afraid the deflector shield will be quite operational when your friends arrive." He gave Luke a condescending smirk. The Sith Lord was positively drinking in Luke's misery.

Luke glared at the little man who sat smiling before him, taunting him, feeding off his pain like a parasite. He felt anger unlike he'd ever felt before; he wanted to grasp the evil old monster's throat and squeeze as hard as the Force would allow. He wanted to hear the bones of his neck shatter. He wanted to constrict his withered heart until it stopped beating.

He _wanted_ his—

"You want _this_, don't you?" asked the Emperor, patting the lightsaber resting next to him. "I can feel your anger." The Emperor had his eyes closed now, basking in Luke's fury. "With each passing moment, you make yourself more my servant. Take it. Use it. I am unarmed. Do what you came here to do. Destroy me!"

Luke let the anger fill his blood and fuel his next actions. He reached out with the Force and ignited his saber, which flew to his outstretched hand. He struck. In a heartbeat, Vader had his own saber lit and in place to block Luke's blade. Energy crackled and hissed as red and green fought for dominance. After a short struggle, Luke deactivated his saber. The Emperor seemed very pleased at the reaction he was able to incite in the young man.

"Give in to your anger," the Sith Master pressed. "Strike me down with all of your hatred and your journey towards the Dark Side will be complete! Channel your rage and _strike_!" He barked the last word and Luke complied.

The Dark Side filled Skywalker's veins like a drug, fueling his strength and clouding his mind of everything but his hatred. He struck again at the man and again, Vader's crimson blade was waiting to shield his master. However, this time Luke did not draw back. If he could not kill the Emperor, he would kill his guardian, the man who had betrayed everyone he ever loved.

It was as though his actions were being controlled by some outside force. His movements were fluid and perfect. Block, strike, parry, block, block. It was a complex ballet he danced with the Dark Lord as they battled down the stairs away from the Emperor; their glowing blades cast constantly moving shadows as they whirled and clashed.

If Vader ever held back in the past, he wasn't now. He was using all of his skill just defending himself, so aggressive was Luke's attack. Vader dodged a slash meant to separate his torso from his legs; Luke's saber dug a deep gouge into the paneling behind him. Sparks flew as circuitry vaporized and wires turned to slag. Molten metal oozed down the wall, dripping to the floor and casting an eerie glow into the shadows. The smell of vaporized plasteel hung thick in the air and smoke wafted gently upwards, only to be disrupted by another sidestep by Vader. Luke's next attack singed Vader's cape, the fine material shriveling and smoking, leaving an acrid scent in the air.

They fought their way back onto the Emperor's platform with Vader pressing Luke backward up the steps. But as they reached the top, a well placed kick sent Vader tumbling back down.

The Emperor applauded. "Good, good!" The old man was practically giddy. He cackled. His pale lips curled up in a twisted grin that exposed his brown, rotting teeth. Luke froze in place as he realized that he was just dancing to the Emperor's tune. He glared back over his shoulder at Palpatine with a look of rage, but even as he did so, his felt his head begin clear and his bloodlust fade. Skywalker deactivated his saber, breathless, and turned to Vader as he climbed to his feet.

"I will not fight you, Father," he called down.

Vader, weapon still lit, began to ascend the steps to meet his son. "You are unwise to lower your defenses!" Vader cried as he lunged at the boy.

The Sith Lord struck fast and Luke barely managed to ignite his saber to block. This time, it was unquestionably the Dark Lord who had the upper hand. With lightning speed, Luke deflected each of Vader's attacks; at one point he leapt into a ring of computer consoles in order avoid a particularly close swipe. Vader slashed between consoles, furiously attacking like a mad quarra after a scrap of meat. Luke back flipped onto a catwalk some three meters up and landed with feline grace. He deactivated his saber once again and, for a moment, just stood staring down at his father.

"I _will_ not fight you, Father," he repeated, his breathing ragged. His chest heaved and his muscles screamed, unaccustomed to such vigorous use.

"Then you will meet your destiny!" Vader hurled his lightsaber up at the catwalk; it spun through the air, a glowing red disc of death. Guided by the Force, it sheared through several support bars and a section of mesh decking and sent a five meter span crashing to the ground below the Emperor's platform. The hewn edges glowed red hot, dripping molten durasteel like candle wax. The impact was deafening, reverberating throughout the cavernous throne room. Luke had disappeared, his lightsaber thrown to the debris-strewn floor. The armor-clad Sith casually opened his hand and snatched the weapon with the Force before retrieving his own.

Vader marched off in search of his prey with Luke's retrieved lightsaber clutched tightly in his fist.

Palpatine chuckled wickedly. "Good, good!" he called out, "Your journey is almost complete, my young apprentice. Release your hatred. Lash out with your anger. Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you are _not_ the one I seek. Perhaps it is your—"

"_Sister_," said Vader, as if reading the Emperor's thoughts. Just as the Emperor had, Vader sensed Luke's greatest concern at that moment, the thing that occupied his mind even more so than his confrontation with the Sith. It was his love that betrayed him. "So, you have a twin sister," Vader said. "Obi-Wan was wise to hide her from me. If you will not be turned, then perhaps _she_ will."

"NEVER!" Luke roared. Vader's taunting words had hit their mark, pressing Luke to reveal his presence in a fit of uncontrollable rage. He extended his hand and tore his lightsaber out of Vader's grip. He attacked the Sith with a ferocity that astonished even the Emperor. There was no form or style, just raw, brutal emotion. Luke's saber bashed against Vader's again and again. They crossed the room, blade beating blade, until they reached the giant ventilation shaft, a gaping maw that plunged down seemingly forever. Vader was pressed backward onto a step. Stumbling clumsily, he found himself pinned against a guardrail, Luke raining hit after hit down upon his crimson blade. With each blow his right arm was forced farther out over the chasm. Luke pummeled his father's saber with his own over and over again, savagely, relentlessly, driven by hate and anger and grief for the friends he knew would surely die in the coming attack. With a final downward slash, Luke's blade burned through Vader's wrist, leaving a sparking stump of fused wires and smoking alloy bones.

Luke arrested his attack as his father groaned in defeat and simulated pain. He glared down at the ruin of his father's wrist and held up his own mechanical right hand, clenching his fingers into a fist. The leather squealed as his fist tightened. He found Vader's gaze. Gripped now by the Dark Side, Luke was furious; he was furious at his father for being so weak, furious at the Emperor for provoking them, furious at himself for being too weak to realize he was being manipulated by everyone his entire life; Uncle Owen, Obi-Wan, the Rebellion, and now Vader and the Emperor. They all used him to suit their own needs.

"Finish him," commanded the Emperor. "Kill him. Take your father's place by my side." He wasn't bothering to hiding the pleasure in his voice. "Destroy Lord Vader. A Sith does not show mercy to his enemies."

"No! I am Jedi!" Luke bellowed as the anger that simmered beneath his breast suddenly boiled over. Blue energy arced between his fingers and crackled in the air. "I am JEDI!" Electricity sizzled and ozone burned as the devastating Force lightning leapt from Luke's outstretched left hand and tore into Vader's prone form.

Vader struggled against the assault, writhing in agony. Sparks flew as delicate electronics were vaporized. Smoke poured freely from half a dozen mechanical injuries, any one of them mortal without immediate repair. Vader's pained groans became cries of anguish as Luke intensified his attack. The Dark Lord had withstood the Sith lightning before, but never to such a degree.

The smell of scorched ozone was strong. Stray bolts blackened the floor where they hit. Vader's armor began to bubble and melt. The duraplast sizzled and smoked. Luke finally relented and the crackling energy bolts ceased. He wasn't finished with his father, however; reaching deep within himself, he tapped fully into the raw power of the Dark Side and violently wrenched Vader's helmet off his head from three meters away. The terrible face of Vader that had brought death and fear to so many, that had been countless beings' final frightening vision, was sent flinging across the throne room where it crashed into a bulkhead with a loud echoing clang, reduced now to just another bit of rubbish. He lifted his father's form from the ground and held it suspended in an invisible grip. The Sith Lord tried to fight back but his son's power, augmented by his anger, was too great.

"This isn't what you wanted, is it, Father?" Luke demanded. His face was contorted with the hot rage coursing through his body. "I don't think it is. You wanted me for _yourself_, isn't that right?" He tightened his grip. Vader's scarred face was distorted by a pained grimace as his body was crushed. Luke was reminded of the guards in Jabba's Palace, of crushing their throats. In retrospect their deaths had been unnecessary. He _could _have easily used a mind trick to sneak past them, but he recognized now that he had gleaned a measure of satisfaction from squeezing the life out of them. Having grown up as nothing, he enjoyed the power that the Force granted him over ordinary beings; he _liked_ being a god among men. Now he realized that he had been heading down the Dark path for some time, ever since the first time he'd seen Ben use the Force to dominate the mind of a stormtrooper in Mos Eisley. He had been certain they would be captured, but the old man twisted the trooper's thoughts and planted new ones and they were let go. He wanted that power; he _craved_ that power.

Luke took careful note of his father's mechanical breathing. He didn't want it to give out too soon. He wanted him alive for as long as possible. "You are a traitor, Father," he spat with disgust. "The moment you turned me, you were going to betray your master so that we could 'rule the galaxy as father and son.' Those were your words, weren't they? You just can't seem to remain loyal to _anyone_, can you? The Jedi, Obi-Wan, the Emperor, you've betrayed them _all_."

Palpatine had remained silent during Luke's sudden turn, watching anxiously as the boy teetered on the edge of the Dark Side before crossing over fully. But now that Skywalker had turned, the Emperor needed to corral him, to rein him in so that he served the Empire, served _him_.

"You now see the power of the Dark Side, have tasted the possibilities that await you. You desire more; this I can clearly sense." His tone was different now. No longer taunting, it was the voice of a teacher, a mentor, to a student. "Join me and you will find no limit to your potential. Take your father's place as my apprentice and I can teach you the _true_ nature of the Force." Luke's swift transformation had surprised the Emperor, and impressed him. There was no doubt now; the son of Skywalker would be his most powerful apprentice yet. Now was a critical time in the boy's training. The Emperor would need to tread carefully lest he undo it all. "Your anger toward your father is great, as it should be. But it should be greater. You deserve to know the truth about Anakin Skywalker." The Emperor closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

There was a deep rumbling explosion. Luke jumped, dropping Vader back to the floor. Had the Rebels finally arrived? Were they attacking the Death Star? He looked around but saw nothing out of place; there were no flames or smoke and no alarms rang out. There was nothing to explain the sound. From out of nowhere a hot breeze swept across his cheek and burned his eyes. Another phantom explosion nearly knocked him flat.

The throne room dissolved around him and he found himself somewhere else. This was unlike any Force vision he'd ever seen; when he saw his friends captured and tortured on Cloud City, it had been images, flashes of fear and pain; when he had confronted the spectral Darth Vader on Dagobah, the whole event played out like a dream. But this…this was different somehow. This felt _real_.

He found himself standing on some sort of large outdoor platform. Violent gouts of lava erupted all around and a searing wind burned his skin. Luke surveyed the hellish landscape; as far as he could see, mountains spewed showers of red hot magma high into the ash-choked sky. Rivers of liquid rock raged, splashing lava sometimes dozens of meters in the air. Small droids flew just above the surface, collecting the volatile liquid by the bucket full. Volcanic gases choked his lungs and he found it hard to take deep breaths.

Luke stood beneath the wing of a small ship, a personal yacht by the looks of it; the mirrored surface of its organic curves reflected the orange light of the seemingly endless volcanic eruptions. A man was running towards the ship, its boarding ramp already lowered. A woman sped down the ramp and into the man's arms. She was crying.

They spoke, but their words were drowned out by the constant eruptions. Luke studied the man, taking in as much detail as he could from his position; he wore the robes of a Jedi and light glinted off the silvery hilt of the lightsaber that hung from his belt. A cruel jagged scar snaked its way down his right eye. Luke noticed one hand was encased in a heavy glove. Subconsciously he flexed his own gloved hand. Why was the Emperor showing him this?

The Jedi and the woman continued to speak, their conversation growing visually more intense. He heard the occasional word carried to his ears on the scorching wind. The woman spoke of the Dark Side and "younglings." The man responded with, "He's trying to turn you against me." The rest was too garbled to make out, their words lost in the violent explosions all around. Their body language suggested they were both upset, though the man appeared to be growing angrier while the woman seemed to be pleading with him about something. As the wind licked at the Jedi's robe, it momentarily revealed the lightsaber in full detail. It was the very lightsaber Obi-Wan had presented him with four years before on Tatooine, the day his aunt and uncle had died; it was his _father's_ lightsaber. Realization hit him like a ton of duracrete blocks. He was in the past and these were his parents.

"The Jedi turned their backs on me. Don't you turn your back on me!" Anakin cried, his voice carrying over the constant noise. Luke was amazed to see how young he looked, younger even than Luke was now. He could hardly believe that this man became the black-clad monster that was Darth Vader. It was obvious that the scene playing out before him took place before whatever accident had robbed Anakin of his limbs, forcing him to live the rest of his life confined in life-support armor. Given the hostility of whatever planet this was, Luke couldn't help but wonder if the event didn't happen right here.

His mother backed up suddenly. Her words drifted lightly to Luke's ears as there came a momentary lull in the constant thundering eruptions. "Anakin, you're breaking my heart! You're going down a path I can't follow." She sobbed into her hand. Luke's heart skipped a beat when she turned slightly and he saw her distended belly. _There we are_, he thought. _Leia and me._

The two went back to low conversation. He strained to listen until his father screamed "Liar!"

She staggered back a step, seemingly out of fear. "No," she gasped softly, shaking her head.

"You brought him here to kill me!" Anakin raised a hand and Luke's mother clutched at her throat.

_Brought who here? He's killing her!_ Luke wanted to leap from his hiding place and stop Anakin but held back. He wasn't sure how he was seeing this, but the Force was telling him to stay put.

"Let her go, Anakin!" commanded a new male voice issuing from inside the ship. Though Luke was sure he'd never heard it before, it sounded almost familiar.

Anakin glared up into the ship at the as yet unseen speaker. Luke heard footsteps descending the ramp.

"I said let her go!" the unseen man commanded again.

Anakin released his grip and the woman fell to the ground, unmoving.

"You turned her against me!" yelled Anakin.

"Your greed and lust for power have already done that." Luke finally saw the second man. He felt like he'd been doused in cold water. Though far younger, he would recognize the man anywhere. It was his late master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. _This is it_, Luke realized. _This is where Anakin lost everything. This is where Vader was born._ Though Obi-Wan had never spoken about this confrontation, history led Luke to only one conclusion.

Obi-Wan stepped over to the still figure of the woman lying prone on the ground and checked her pulse. Anakin turned away from him, facing the direction where Luke crouched. For a moment he was certain Anakin had seen him. But he remained perfectly still, not even daring to breathe, and his father didn't seem to take notice.

"I'll not betray my new Empire," Anakin said simply. Luke stared directly into his eyes, which were hard and cold. _New Empire? Palpatine must have just crowned himself._

"Your new Empire? Anakin, my loyalty is to the _Republic!_ To _democracy!_" Luke had never seen Obi-Wan so upset. The old man had always been so calm and collected. Obi-Wan's face was in full sight now and Luke was still taken aback at how young he was, how young _both_ of them were. This scene would have to have been twenty years before their fateful encounter on the Death Star. The twin suns of Tatooine had aged Obi-Wan considerably.

Anakin called out over his shoulder, "If you are not with me, you are my enemy."

"Only the Sith deal in absolutes." Obi-Wan reached for the lightsaber hanging from his belt, the same one Luke would see him use years later to sever the arm of a cantina patron in Mos Eisley. "I will do what I must."

Anakin gave a sneer only Luke could see. "You will try."

Luke abruptly found himself back in the throne room as the volcanic world vanished around him. He looked around, dazed. Gone were the hot winds and the booming explosions of magma. The whole event had been intense. He found his father's eyes; he could see from Vader's horrified expression that he had been dragged through his past along with Luke. Anger welled up in Luke, anger at having to see the last moments of his mother's life, knowing that she died because of _him_, the pathetic and broken man lying on the floor before him. He felt the overwhelming urge to avenge his mother's death, along with the deaths of all the untold millions whose blood dripped from Vader's gloved hands.

"Yes," the Emperor's voice broke into Luke's thoughts. The Sith Master's voice was weak, winded. He had expended a terrific amount of power showing young Skywalker that vision in such vivid detail. "He killed your mother," he confirmed, gesturing weakly at the figure that lay dying on the cold, rumbling floor. "But he does not bear _sole_ responsibility."

"What?" Luke had seen Anakin kill her with his own eyes. How was he not responsible?

"Oh, do not misunderstand," Palpatine explained quickly. He seemed to be gaining some strength back now. "Anakin was physically responsible for Padmé's death. But," he said, raising a gnarled finger, "had Master Kenobi not stowed aboard your mother's ship intent upon confronting and destroying your father, Anakin would not have assumed she had betrayed him to his former master and rival. Kenobi had learned of their relationship; he knew of Anakin's inability to control his emotions. Indeed, he knew him better than anyone. How could he have not known how his former Padawan would react to such a confrontation?"

Luke's head swam. "Obi-Wan? It was—it was _Obi-Wan's_ fault?" A tear rolled down his cheek. His world had been torn apart yet again. Had anyone _ever_ been truthful with him? He'd always assumed that Obi-Wan had been present for Anakin's death, and later, when he discovered the truth, he knew Kenobi must have had a hand in Vader's injuries. But why had the old Jedi never mentioned Luke's _mother_? Was it guilty conscience, as it had been when he withheld the truth about Vader? Did the shamed Jedi Master _ever_ intend to divulge the truth, that he had been personally responsible for the loss of _both_ of Luke's parents?

The Emperor nodded. "Indeed. He felt it was his duty to destroy the Sith. He was jealous of your father's power, and afraid of it. He didn't trust him. Or your mother, apparently."

"D-did you know her?" Luke asked hopefully. This was the first he had ever heard of his mother, though he had fantasized of her often as a child.

The Emperor nodded again. "I knew her for many, many years," he told Luke. "We come from the same world, in fact. I represented it in the Senate and she, well she _led_ it. When I met your mother, she was the _queen_." The Emperor allowed Luke to absorb this new information before continuing. "After her term as queen ended, she replaced me in the Senate. You may be surprised to learn that she belonged to a group of senators who later went on to found your Rebel Alliance."

"It's not my Rebellion anymore," Luke said, staring at the floor. It was all he could do to stay on his feet; he felt lightheaded after all of this new information, dizzy, like the floor was made of gelatin. His knees felt weak. He didn't know what to do, what to say, what to _think_.

The Emperor smiled. "You know," hr began slowly, "had you been in my possession all this time, this rebellion would have been crushed years ago. Fewer people need have died fighting for such a feeble cause." The Emperor glanced out the window. Something seemed to catch his attention and he gave a triumphant smile.

"Never mind that now," he said suddenly. "It will all be over in a matter of moments." He walked over to his throne and spoke into the armrest comm unit. "Commander?"

"_Yes, sir?_" answered a man's voice. It was full of anxiety and trepidation; he was speaking to the ruler and ruiner of worlds.

"Prepare for the micro-jump to light speed," the Emperor ordered. "We are about to have guests. The moment the Rebel Fleet comes out of hyperspace, you are to jump to minimum safe distance, then wait for my signal."

"_Yes, sir!_" The commander sounded excited about something.

The Emperor turned back to face a confused Skywalker. Vader had somehow managed to get back to his feet but his breath was ragged and shallow without his mask. His cape hung limply from his shoulders in tatters and his quilted leather body suit was burned away in placed, revealing the mechanical limbs beneath. He leaned heavily against a piece of softly whirring machinery for support. Luke was ignoring him for the moment.

"'Minimum safe distance'?" Luke asked. "What's going on? What is that?" He didn't like being in the dark. When the Emperor didn't immediately answer, Luke shouted, "What is it?"

Palpatine's tone changed from pleasant to grave after Skywalker's command. He narrowed his eyes in anger. "Do not presume to demand answers from me," he warned severely. "Like your father, you are not so important to me that I will tolerate insubordination." To emphasize his point, he raised a cupped hand of crackling blue energy.

"We have seen how well you conjure this most ancient Sith spell," he said, glancing from the plasma pouring from his fingertips back to Luke. "Do you wish to see how well you withstand it?" He gave a chuckle and lowered his hand and the energy was quenched. "You will soon learn your place, young one. I will tell you what 'minimum safe distance' is. It is the end of the Rebellion.

"You see, the instant the fleet exits hyperspace, the Death Star and the Imperial Fleet will make a micro-jump away from the Sanctuary Moon. We will come out of hyperspace at _minimum safe distance_," he emphasized those three words, "and destroy it, along with the enemy fleet." A faint smile parted his thin cruel lips as he imagined the Rebel fleet vaporizing in a sudden, blinding flash.

"What of your legion?" Luke asked desperately. "You said they were your 'best troops.' You would leave them to die?"

"Yes, I would," the Emperor said simply. "However, I needn't this day," he assured Luke.

"Because there never was one," Luke realized aloud as it dawned on him that he and the Rebellion had been well and truly played for fools.

"Just so," Palpatine said with a nod. "A small complement of troops was sent to the moon to deal with your team but has now been recalled to their command ships. You see, I received word shortly before you and your father left the surface that your friends had been located. By the same company that found you, I believe. They were taken into custody and brought here immediately. I was given confirmation that they landed just moments after you and Lord Vader arrived. Perhaps you saw their shuttle come in?"

Luke's heart jumped as he remembered the approaching shuttle; he recalled the strange twinge he felt as it neared the bay.

"—of your team was killed and the surrounding area was razed to the ground to be certain no more were hidden in the forest," the Emperor was saying when Luke came out of his own thoughts. "All hope is now lost," he heard the old Sith say. "Your insurrection has come to its end. The Light has failed you, young Skywalker. It is the Dark path that holds the answers you seek. You've no other direction to turn."

Luke looked back toward the shabby wretch that was his father, still leaning heavily against a cylindrical machine, sad and pathetic. Anakin's ice-blue eyes looked deep inside Luke, silently pleading. No longer was this the gaze of Darth Vader. It was the gaze of a broken and penitent man. It was the gaze of Anakin Skywalker. But none of it mattered anymore. Luke hated him; he wanted to _kill_ him!

A voice sounded from the comm unit in the throne's armrest. "_Your Highness, the Rebel Fleet has just exited hyperspace. We are now making our micro-jump to safe distance._" The station shuddered slightly as the great vessel leapt into hyperspace. The stars in the giant viewports elongated and formed a tunnel, only to immediately snap back to pinpoints a second later. The Emperor smiled and bared his crooked teeth.

_Do it, my Apprentice,_ the Emperor coaxed silently, penetrating Luke's mind and pointing to the arm of his throne. "Give the command to fire," he said aloud. "Destroy the rebellion that has brought so much pain and suffering to the galaxy and you will be reborn."

"_Your Highness_," called the commander's voice from the throne. "_We await your order to fire_." He sounded both tense and excited. "_Your Highness?_" he called again when he received no response.

"They are waiting, young one," Palpatine urged Skywalker. "With this act, you open yourself to a new universe of wonder and power. Give the order; it is your destiny." With a flick of his wrist, the Emperor used the Force to open the comm channel and waited. Should the boy prove incapable of performing this sacrifice, he may have to be destroyed.

"Commander," began Luke slowly. He closed his eyes tight against the tears which threatened to flow freely. "_Fire_," he gasped at last. He took a position at the observation window and started blankly out at the soon to be annihilated moon. He could just make out the faint glittering of starship hulls in orbit over the blue and green globe.

"_Your Highness?_" asked a confused commander.

"You have your order, Commander," said the Emperor, who broke the connection and moved to stand beside his new apprentice. He had a broad smile on his old, withered face. _Good_, he thought. _His transition is complete. He will serve me well._

The Emperor fixed his gaze on the small green orb hanging serenely before them some eight hundred thousand kilometers away. They both stood watching in anxious silence as a beam of green fire lanced through space from somewhere below and struck the moon a fraction of a second later. There was an eerie silence. Everything seemed calm, peaceful, frozen. A half a heartbeat later, the moon disappeared in a fantastic explosion. What wasn't instantly vaporized flew away in every direction at thousands of kilometers per second leaving fiery streaks of molten rock streaming out into space. The first fragments of debris reached the Death Star in seconds. They seemed to vanish in a brief flash about three kilometers from the station's surface.

Luke scoffed. "This is what you meant," he said as everything became clear. "This is the deflector shield you said would be operational. The station had a working shield the whole time. The generator on the surface of the moon was a ploy." With no other option open to him anymore, Luke kneeled before his Emperor to swear his fealty.

"I shall enjoy training you, my Apprentice," Palpatine said in response. He reached out to set a hand on the boy's shoulder. "Do you pledge yourself forevermore to the teachings of the Sith and to the everlasting prosperity of the Galactic Empire?"

"Yes, Master," Luke swore; his father watched in horror from across the room. "Train me."


	2. Rise of a Sith

**Chapter 2: Rise of a Sith**

As he said the words, Luke felt a rush of power surge through him; he could feel the Dark Side coursing through his veins, spreading throughout his entire body like a fiery drug. As he rose to his feet, Luke glanced over to his father who was struggling to remain on his feet as his suit continued to shut down system by system. _Pitiful_. He stared at the weak man, studying every line, every scar, and hating him more with each passing heartbeat. A sneer spread across his face. Luke's eyes narrowed and flashed with a dark glint.

"You were right all along, Father," he proclaimed, taking a few steps toward the dying man. "I _didn't_ know the power of the Dark Side. It's…indescribable. I can feel the Force more powerfully than I ever could before. I feel as though I have my finger on the pulse of the galaxy itself."

"D-don't, Son," Anakin sputtered. "Don't tread down th-the same path I did." Each hoarse word seemed to cause him agony. "You w-will spend your l-life a servant, to the Dark Side and to _h-him_." He coughed as he meekly pointed toward the Emperor. "He will whisper lies in your ear," Anakin wheezed. "He promise you things, but," he struggled for breath, "but he will never allow you t-to become a threat to him. He-he promised me the power to save _her_. B-but she died anyway."

"She didn't die!" Luke raged. "_You_ killed her! How can you blame _him_ for her death when I _watched you choke the life out of her?_" He gave Anakin a look that could melt durasteel.

"Y-you don't understand," Anakin sobbed. "He promised me the power to save her from my visions! He _p-promised_. The things I did…the things I did, I did to _save_ her! And when I pledged myself to him, h-he," Anakin coughed, a deep wracking cough, "he admitted that he d-didn't have the power. But he _swore_ we would work together to save her!"

"And you murdered her before we ever had a chance," Palpatine reminded him. "I had no hand in that. You never could rein in your emotions; it's why the Jedi never trusted you."

"But you," Anakin was interrupted by another coughing fit. His breathing was coming shallower and shallower; his scarred lungs wouldn't last him much longer. "You planted th-those visions," he accused the Emperor. "I-I always suspected," he wheezed, "even then."

"It doesn't matter!" Luke cried out. "His visions didn't close my mother's throat until she collapsed. _You _did. She was _pregnant!_" he roared. "You-you nearly killed me _and_ Leia along with her!"

Anakin's eyes were glassy with tears. "I didn't mean—" he choked out.

"You killed her," Luke spat. "It really doesn't matter if you meant to or not."

"I'm s-sorry," Anakin whispered coarsely. His voice was gravel in his throat. "Please, you must forgive me, Son," he pleaded. "Please."

"I don't think I do, Father," Luke replied coolly.

Anakin tried to respond but was struck by a violent coughing fit that sent him to his knees. Small flecks of blood, shockingly bright red against his pale skin, flew from his lips, spraying the air with every hack. The end was very near now. Luke moved toward him, as if to assist. As he did so, he reached his hand toward the ventilation shaft to Anakin's right. Anakin cringed at the gesture, fearing another attack. He relaxed when no attack came.

A faint whistling sound began emanating from within the deep shaft, mixed in with the steady thrum so that it was almost inaudible. But as Luke moved closer, his arm still outstretched, the sound grew louder. Suddenly the whistling stopped and an object soared up out of the shaft and into Luke's waiting hand. Vader's lightsaber, lost with his mechanical right hand, sat firmly in Luke's grip. Without missing a beat he ignited the saber and plunged the crimson blade into Anakin's chest up to the hilt.

Anakin's chest plate sparked and crackled; there was a smell of burnt plastic and a sick sizzle of cooking meat. His face contorted in a mixture of surprise and pain. Anakin's ice-blue eyes widened and his jaw worked as though he were trying to speak. Spots of blood were drying on his lips. Already on his knees, he nearly collapsed fully to the ground but Luke held him steady. Luke knelt down; he wanted to look his father in the eye.

Luke and Anakin locked gazes. "I have met my destiny, Father. Meet yours."

With one brutal gesture, Luke wrenched the blade upward, burning through Anakin's chest until it sliced through his shoulder. No longer able to support himself with such a grievous injury, Anakin slumped backward and collapsed onto his back. He cast fading glances first toward his old master and then up at his son, the man who had dealt him his mortal blow.

Luke stood over him, breathing hard but saying nothing. The station rumbled on. Anakin continued to gasp lightly, reaching up for assistance he would never receive. He tried to say something but only managed a gurgle. His suit was shutting down. The saber had fried the remaining functional circuitry and irreparably damaged the organic body underneath it all. Anakin stared up at Luke, his face a mixture of pain and peace. With a final shudder, he lay his head down, unmoving. The legacy of Vader had ended; Anakin was dead.

Luke hovered over his father's body for several minutes. Though Anakin was dead, Luke's anger had not subsided. With a final primal yell, Luke, fueled by the Dark Side, cast his father's corpse down the ventilation shaft with a violent sweep of his arm. He could hear the periodic clanks as Anakin hit the sides of the shaft on his long journey down into oblivion.

"You have done two things here today which I never thought possible," the Emperor said, breaking the tense silence. "First," he said, nodding the rumbling abyss, "you have defeated the most fearsome apprentice I have ever trained. He was once known as the Chosen One by the Jedi, the most powerful being ever born into the Force."

"And the second?" asked Luke dispassionately, uninterested in hearing about Jedi legend or his father at the moment. He tossed away his father's saber and called his own to his hand. He caught it and clipped it back on his belt.

"You have impressed me," said Palpatine frankly. "Very few being in this galaxy have ever had such an honor. Both your mother and father, however, were among those elite few. It is little surprise, I suppose, that you are as well." Palpatine stepped over to his new apprentice and again placed a bony hand on Luke's shoulder. Luke could feel the power coursing through those old hands.

"Come." Palpatine turned and walked away, retrieving the twisted black cane resting beside his throne with a subtle gesture. He bade Luke to follow. The two crossed the length of the audience chamber to the turbo-lift. Luke allowed himself one last glance at the ventilation shaft which had swallowed up the once-powerful Dark Lord. He vowed never to be so weak. He would serve the Emperor better than any had before. He would make a difference. And he would never again betray those who had placed their trust in him.

The solemn pair entered the lift; the Emperor's cane clanked dully on the durasteel floor. He opened a small control panel and entered a seven-digit code. The lift immediately began to descend. The two made the trip in silence. It was during this time that Luke realized he was no longer overwhelmed by the Emperor's presence. In fact, he drew strength from it now.

"Where are we going?" Luke asked as the door slid open. "Master," he added hastily, remembering his place.

"We are going to see your friends," the Emperor replied. "They are being interrogated and I believe you could be of some assistance." He turned to his young apprentice. "You will also be required to relinquish all rebel information you contain, of course."

"Why question them when I hold the same information?" Luke asked, suddenly concerned for Han and Leia and Chewie's wellbeing. His decision to accept Palpatine's training didn't change the way he felt about them; they were still his friends and he didn't want to see them harmed. "It seems unnecessary."

"Because they may know information you do not," the Emperor said simply. "If they do, your closeness to them could be useful. You will recognize if they are lying or if their stories begin to sound unusual.

"They are still ignorant in the ways of the galaxy," continued the Emperor as they wove deep into the bowels of the battle station. "They are no longer your friends. You have learned your place and so must teach them theirs," he explained. "You are a rancor among wamprats. Never forget that." The Emperor turned to look his apprentice in the eye. He gestured toward him with a pale withered finger. "You are now the second most powerful being in the galaxy, my boy. Use this to your advantage."

Luke tried to ignore the stares he got from the Death Star crew as they approached another bank of lifts. He could scarcely imagine what they must think of this disheveled boy walking with the supreme ruler of the galaxy. They entered a lift and again the Emperor entered another personal code. They were taken even deeper into the station's interior.

The Emperor spoke on. "Show the universe the true extent of your abilities as you did just now," he said. "You are far more important than you ever imagined. Your farm boy days are over, my Apprentice. Your destiny is with the _Sith_."

The lift stopped. The door slid open and as Luke went to step out he was stopped by one of the Emperor's bony hands grasping his arm. "Weakness," he said with grave seriousness, "is death."

Luke nodded. The Emperor exited the lift and Luke followed his master into the corridor. He reached out with the Force and felt Leia nearby. She was in a state of shock. Luke surmised that she had been informed of the Rebellion's failure and Endor's destruction, probably as a means of demoralizing her and making her more likely to give up vital intelligence; after all, if the Rebellion had effectively ceased to exist, what harm could there be in giving up its secrets? He took special note of a dark rage simmering in her core; though she kept it in check, he was amazed at the power there. _I shouldn't be_, he chided himself. _We _are_ twins after all_. If she could be turned…

She was the most important of the captives. Luke knew the Rebellion had trusted her with secrets known only by a handful of other members; even Luke wasn't so trusted as that. He knew that she would need to be turned or destroyed. Leia was too dangerous to the Empire, to the peace the Empire was attempting to forge. _She must turn. I can't lose her, but neither can she be allowed to carry on spreading chaos. If only I can convince her of the destruction we've caused, show her that it hasn't been worth it._

"Tell me more of the Chosen One, Master," Luke said suddenly. "That's what you called Vader, isn't it? What was he?"

"Your father allegedly fit the description of a figure in Jedi prophecy called the Chosen One," Palpatine explained. "They claimed that he was the most powerful being within the Force that would ever be born into this galaxy. And I believe he actually was. He was allegedly conceived by the Force itself; he possessed no biological father, only a mother. When he was discovered by the Jedi he was nine or ten years old, too old, the Council said, to be trained." The Emperor glanced over at Luke as they walked. "I understand you had somewhat the same trouble with the Jedi. Too old for the training. Anakin, however, had the support of an exceedingly stubborn and arrogant Jedi Knight by the name of Jinn," he said. "Qui-Gon Jinn, the master of your own master, Obi-Wan Kenobi." They entered another lift and Palpatine tapped in a pass code.

"Your father was rescued by the two Jedi and brought to Coruscant to stand before the Jedi Council." The Emperor suppressed a scoff of derision as he mentioned the Council. "It was there that I first met him and sensed his great potential. Before I could approach him, however, the Jedi took him on a mission. My apprentice was killed during the mission, but he took that fool Qui-Gon Jinn with him. As the Jedi lay dying, he made Kenobi promise to train your father, with or without the Jedi Council's approval." They exited the turbolift and headed down a long hallway.

"How do you know this, Master?" Luke asked. It was the kind of adventure story he had always fantasized about at home on Tatooine. He could hardly believe his father had _lived_ it.

Palpatine chuckled lightly. "I did not witness the events if that's what you're inquiring. No," he said, "I attended the Jedi's funeral. I heard the entire account first-hand from the Jedi Council itself. I had very recently been elected Supreme Chancellor of the Republic, you see. I had the full support of the Jedi and I had set into motion events which led to the start of the Clone Wars and the eventual rise of my Empire.

"One thing I had not anticipated, however, was Anakin Skywalker." The Emperor paused a moment, reflecting on those early days. "For ten years I watched his career," he went on. "I advised him, counseled him, gave him what he desperately needed; a person with whom he could be completely honest about his feelings. All the while, I imagined the Chosen One, savior of the Jedi, becoming my Sith Apprentice. The irony!" He laughed again, a dry cackle. "Although the process was long, he was easy enough to set on the path to the Dark Side. When he was still just a boy, nineteen or twenty, his mother was killed by Sand People. He confessed to me that when he found them, he slaughtered their whole camp, men, women, and children all. I felt his rage from the Capital." Palpatine closed his eyes as he relived the sensation. "He had such raw power," he mused.

"Tuskens?" Luke interrupted. "My grandmother died on Tatooine?"

"Your father grew up on Tatooine," the Emperor said with a nod. "He and your mother were slaves." He continued before Luke could interrupt again, "He was constantly angry, frustrated, full of rage. It took very little effort on my part to show him the true path. In truth, he probably would have found it on his own. I merely _directed_ his energies onto more constructive avenues. I promised him power beyond anything the Jedi would allow. In the end, he saw that only I could offer him the ability to achieve greatness and he accepted his apprenticeship."

The two rounded a corner and finally stopped. They stood in front of a door simply labeled T1-HX138 in block lettering. A small keypad protruded from the wall next to the door; above the keypad was a security monitor that displayed a live feed from inside the room. As Palpatine entered the proper clearance codes, Luke expanded his Force senses and swept the room. There was a single presence, weak but still alive. He stifled a gasp as he realized he recognized the presence. Han was in that room.

Interrogation had left his friend near death. Luke was certain Han would never give up Alliance secrets, however. His smuggling past made him a valuable asset to the Rebellion. It was possible that, like Leia, Han had been privy to secrets Luke himself had not been. Those secrets would have to be extracted, for the good of the galaxy. Luke steeled himself.

"He is an agent of chaos," Palpatine said softly. "He is no longer your friend. Never forget that. You are a Sith. You bring order to chaos." The Emperor offered him a smile. "You are destined for greatness, boy. This is your moment."

Luke nodded and stepped into the room, which sealed shut behind him. The room was large but sparsely furnished; the three meter high walls extended back ten meters and were simple unadorned durasteel plates. They gleamed under the bright lights, which were recessed into the ceiling. Various devices and instruments of interrogation hung from the walls in a perversely organized fashion. Han was strapped into a simple metal chair bolted to the floor in the center of the room.

He looked weak and broken. Luke instantly felt overwhelming sympathy for his friend but he quashed it before it could take root and affect his decisions. He hated to see Han like this but he couldn't compromise the lives of millions because of his own personal feelings. He took a deep breath and released those feelings, purging them from his mind. He may hate himself for it later, but right now he had a job to do that was greater than any one person and his emotions would only hinder him.

Han's head hung down, his chin rested on his chest. His once white shirt was torn and blood-stained from what looked like a broken nose. His face was a ruin of cuts and bruises, all swollen and purple; Luke could hardly recognize his friend except for the familiar scar on Han's chin. His hands were bound behind him to the backrest of the chair. His breathing was shallow and he appeared to be unconscious.

"Come to pump me for more infor…" Han said suddenly. He broke off as he raised his head and saw Luke through badly swollen eyes. "Kid?" he asked weakly. "Y-you're still alive! You—you gotta help me. Leia's in the other room there," he motioned vaguely at a far wall and winced at the pain of the movement. "Help her first. They killed Chewie, Luke. They just shot him. I think he was trying to protect Leia and…"

Luke listened but didn't respond. _Chewie. Dead. If he had only cooperated! He should have known better. He got himself killed by being stupid. Han should have stopped him!_ One of his friends was already dead. Luke tried to suppress his anger but he couldn't fight it. The Wookiee's death had been pointless! Luke had to protect others from succumbing to the same fate. Disregarding his emotional attachment, Luke clasped Han's throat with the Force and held it tight.

Han gave a jolt of surprise. "Luke?" he choked out, confused. "Luke, what're you doing?" He was gasping for breath, wrenching his head from side to side in an effort to fight the invisible grip.

"Listen to me, Han," Luke started slowly. He despised himself but he pressed on. "I don't want to hurt you, but I need you to answer my questions. Please, Han." He tried to give Han a cold stare but wasn't sure how believable it would be. The expression on Han's beaten face tore Luke's insides to shreds. He looked so utterly broken and betrayed. Soon, however, his face twisted in anger.

The smuggler summoned up his courage. "If you hurt Leia…" he wheezed, "I'll kill you." He gave a choking cough. "You hear me, Farmboy? Hurt her and I'll kill you."

Han's unwavering dedication to Leia made Luke feel even worse about what he had to do. "I would never hurt her," Luke assured him, trying his best to maintain an unreadable tone. "We have plans for her. I only hope she doesn't hurt herself. She needs to cooperate. It's the only way she can save herself." Luke couldn't bear to lose the sister he only just discovered he had, but he knew that she would not be permitted to live unless she gave up her secrets and swore fealty to the Emperor.

Han shook his head as if trying to clear it. "What do you mean 'we'?" he gagged, coughing. His voice was hoarse and gravelly beneath the pressure of Luke's Force grip. "What plans? Luke, this isn't you. Snap out of it, kid! C'mon! This isn't you!"

"You're wrong, Han," Luke told him. "This _is_ me. My whole life I was nothing. I was weak, always looking to the future at my big plans that never seemed to get any closer. I was nothing more than a farm boy from Tatooine. Do you know how many of those ever make it off Tatooine?" he asked. "But now, I'm a part of something great," he continued. "I _am_ something great." Luke released his hold on Han's throat and the smuggler gulped sweet air into his lungs.

"Luke," said Han, his eyes locked onto Luke's, "What has the old man done to you?"

"He has made me!" Luke cried out. "For once in my life, I've found someone who isn't going to lie to me or tell me to forget my dreams, to get my head out of the clouds. The Emperor _wants_ me to be great!"

Han scoffed, still breathing heavily. "Yeah, you're real great now, kid."

Luke glared down at Han. "You don't understand; you _can't_ understand."

"Why?" Han asked. "Because I don't have the Force? You think you need these big fancy powers to be great?" He coughed and sucked in a big breath. "The folks in the Alliance, _they're_ great. Ordinary people fighting for what's right. You," he shook his head. "You've got delusions of grandeur. It ain't the power that makes you great, kid. It's how you use it."

"The Rebellion is gone, Han," Luke responded sharply. "It's over. It was doomed from the beginning. I see that now. You should too. We weren't great, we brought chaos and death and war to the galaxy." He moved right up to Han and kneeled so as to look him level in the eye. "You were once an Imperial officer, Han. You could be again. You're a good man; the Empire needs men like you. You only need to cooperate." He stood back up. "If you don't, I won't have any other choice. You'll be executed for treason."

Palpatine observed his apprentice over a security monitor. He was impressed with the boy's handling of the situation. He could sense the conflict within the boy, but there was resolve there as well. Luke did not want to kill his friend, but he was resigned to do so if it came to it.

_Apprentice_, the Emperor said through the Force. _You must execute him. We do not give mercy to terrorists and seditionists._

There was a brief sense of reluctance from Skywalker. _I understand, Master_, Luke responded. Palpatine could feel the boy tamp down his sorrow and disassociate himself from his emotions.

The Emperor left the monitor room and made his way toward Leia's cell, which was located immediately adjacent to Solo's. It was important that she bear witness to what was to come.

Luke tried to force a smirk but the result was more of a grimace. "Han, my Master needs to know what you know. I know there are things about the Alliance that I haven't been given access to, things that you may have been." He moved behind the chair and kneeled, resting his gloved hand on Han's shoulder. "Han, cooperation is really in your best interest." Luke gave Han's shoulder a squeeze with his prosthetic hand. He had to fight back a shudder of revulsion as Han's collarbone snapped wetly. Han winced and gave a sharp cry of pain. Then he showed Luke exactly how cooperative he intended to be. The smuggler spat out a mouthful of blood, narrowly missing Luke's scuffed boots. Luke stood back up, furious.

"Alright, Han," he growled angrily. "If that's how you want it to be." He glared fiercely at his former friend and saw a look of unyielding defiance cross his face.

"Go suck a missile tube, you—!" Han's insult was interrupted by a scream of agony, his own. His chest was constricted in an iron Force grip that only tightened more with every exhalation. Another wet snap and a blinding flash of pain in his side heralded a broken rib. There was an abrupt escape of air and an instant shortness of breath and he knew the rib must have punctured a lung. The pain was unimaginable. Luke's grip constricted tighter and tighter. Han tried to look at the kid but could barely make him out through the nauseating pain and the bright flashes of oxygen deprivation. It felt to Han as though a Hutt had planted itself squarely on his chest.

Luke hardly seemed to be concentrating. He watched his friend die with a cold emotionless countenance, so unlike the passionate, enthusiastic kid he had smuggled off Tatooine four years ago. What had made him into this—? His vision slowly faded to black and finally the pain ended. Luke released his grip and allowed Han's body to slump in the chair.

After what seemed a long time staring in disbelief as his friend's limp form, Luke left the room. When he didn't immediately see his master, he reached out to him through the Force. _Master? I've failed. He died before he yielded any information. I'm sorry._ He felt a strange sense of grief and disappointment. He had killed his friend, but he had done so with the intent to ultimately protect others. Was it worth it? His mind was a jumble of confusion.

_It is of no concern, Apprentice,_ the Emperor responded._ He would not have betrayed the __Alliance__. I need you to stay where you are. I shall join you momentarily. Only together can we hope to turn your sister._

Palpatine arrived moments later. "Come, boy. You must convince your sister to become one of us. You must show more strength than your father did. His unwillingness to destroy you was his downfall."

"I understand, Master," Luke assured him. "I won't make the same mistakes as my father. He allowed his compassion for me to cloud his judgment. I won't allow that to happen to me. I promise."

Leia was dangerous. If she could not be turned, the Emperor would see that she was terminated. Luke swore to himself to do everything in his power to avoid that if at all possible.

Palpatine stood before the sealed door to the interrogation room from which Luke had just come. "Master? I was just in there. You said we were going to see _Leia_."

"You still have much to learn, young Apprentice," the Emperor scolded lightly. "Reach out with your feelings, learn to trust the Force, not your other senses," he instructed. "What do you feel now?"

Luke did as he was instructed. He sensed the open space of the room, he felt Han's lifeless body, and he felt—_Leia_! But how had she gotten into the room? Luke was sure that—

The Emperor read Luke's expression correctly. "Yes, there is only one door, Skywalker, I assure you." The Emperor smiled. "These two interrogation rooms," he nodded to an identical door several meters further down the corridor, "are connected. A section of the wall is no wall at all but rather a ray shield with a holographic emitter. When activated, it seals the rooms from one another and appears every bit as solid as the rest of the wall."

"I still don't understand, Master," Luke admitted. "What's the point of it?"

"The hologram can be switched off from either side," Palpatine explained. "Allowing one room to view whatever may be transpiring in the other."

"But not the other way around," Luke said as he realized what the Emperor was saying. "She saw what I did to Han." Suddenly he began to feel ill. Leia would never forgive him. He may have lost her after all.

"I thought witnessing the death of her mate would push her just that much closer to the edge," the Emperor confirmed. "I've known her a long while. She angers quickly and does not forgive easily. I wanted to use that. I seem to have miscalculated her, however," he admitted. "She has gained considerable control of her emotions since I last saw her. Her reaction was not quite so dynamic as I would have hoped. She will need further—_encouragement_—if she is to be turned." Luke watched on the security monitor set into the control pad as Leia sat childlike on the floor cradling Han's still form. She had been let into the room and had evidently freed him of his restraints. Luke felt her rage, but she kept it contained, refusing to succumb to its control. His master was correct; it would take the both of them to turn her.

The Emperor unlocked the door and it opened with a hiss. Leia's head snapped up as she watched the pair enter the room. She was still clothed in the dress made for her by the Ewok tribe, which was now ripped and scorched and stained with blood. Her hair, once finely braided with bits of twine, was now ratty and tangled, falling across her face. She gently set Han aside and rose carefully to her feet, her eyes locked onto Luke's. He could see the anger in those eyes, and the hurt. The softness that once resided in them was now gone entirely.

"How could you?" she rasped in a whisper made hoarse from crying. Her eyes welled up with fresh tears. "How could you?" she roared and lunged at her brother like an animal. "He was your friend!" Her hands were splayed like claws, reaching for her brother's throat. A murderous howl burst from her very core.

Luke reacted instinctively. He caught her with the Force and held her fast, immobilizing her mid-leap.

"He was weak, Leia," he forced himself to say. Even he was shocked by how cold it came out. He wanted nothing more than to hold her and comfort her, but he couldn't. There were more important things at stake. Someday she would understand. She would be _made_ to understand. "He was bravely fighting a losing battle. We _all_ were. I gave him a way out, Leia, and he refused it. I didn't _want_ to kill him." Luke moved away from his master's side and approached his sister. He placed a hand on her cheek. She tried to cringe but she still remained tight in the firm hold of the Force. Luke gently caressed her face. "You are strong, Leia," he told her. "You could be great, if only you'd see. The Force runs deep in your blood, as it does in mine. The power is within your reach, you only need to want it. Use your anger and your fear. Let it fuel your power. I feel the anger in you. Release it and fight my hold." When nothing happened, he decided to try another tactic. He turned his back to her, stepping back to the Emperor. As he did so, he released his grip on Leia. "Perhaps we were wrong, Master. She is too stubborn to be turned."

Leia rushed her brother again as his back was turned. She was thrown backwards to the ground, as though she had slammed into some invisible wall. The Emperor looked down at her and laughed

"You may be correct, Apprentice," the old man said. He turned to leave. "Pity," he said, glancing back. "She had such potential." The thick material of his robes scraped the floor as he moved back toward the door. He gestured for his apprentice to follow.

Unbridled rage erupted from the princess like a fountain. A powerful wave of hatred was launched at the Emperor's back. The blast impacted against the bulkhead beside him, crumpling the metal like it was paper. Without missing a stride, Palpatine added, "Though she may _yet_ be of use to us," and left, his apprentice close on his heels. Alone now, Leia dropped to her knees and sobbed in frustration and anguish. As the door sealed, Luke saw her crawling back to Han's body.

"What will become of her, Master?" Luke inquired.

"She will remain here, for now," the Emperor said, pausing to speak. "I believe, in time, she will turn. She has lost everyone and everything dear to her. The Dark Side calls to her, willing her to embrace it. You are all that she has left. If she wants to keep you, she must turn. Imagine," he said thoughtfully, "with the offspring of the Chosen One, order will again be brought to this chaotic galaxy. Peace will be restored and those responsible for disrupting it will be punished." The Emperor began walking again. "Come, we must procure you sleeping quarters. I trust Lord Vader's will be sufficient. We shall be leaving in a matter of hours on a mission of great importance. You will need your strength."

They made their way to one of innumerable command stations located around the Death Star. The officer on duty fumbled to attention when he saw the Emperor approaching. He gave Luke a queer look. "Your Majesty," he sputtered. "I wasn't told you would be performing an inspection."

"You should be prepared at all times, Commander, for anything that may occur on your shift." The Emperor spoke coolly and dangerously. The commander's face drained of color. "However, I am not here for an inspection. Skywalker requires quarters and this was the nearest security post. Give him clearance to all levels of this station and the command codes for Lord Vader's personal chambers."

"But, Your Highness, will Lord Vader not need his chambers?" the commander asked stupidly.

Luke spoke up. "Lord Vader is dead and no longer in need of his quarters. I am." Within minutes, Luke was making his way to his new chambers, a flimsiplast map and code sheet held in his hands. The Emperor had returned to his throne to meditate until their journey. He told Luke that he would be sent for at 1300 hours, giving him just four hours to rest. Luke still didn't know what this journey was, only that the Emperor had said it was of great importance. He decided to take the Emperor's advice a get some much-needed sleep.

Vader's quarters turned out to be surprisingly spacious. The room was entirely bare save for the enormous black hyperbaric chamber, which took up a large portion of the space, and a simple cot nestled into a far corner, which Luke suspected had only been added in preparation for his arrival. He supposed the remaining open space was set aside for lightsaber drills; he couldn't imagine what else Vader would have used it for. When Luke sprawled himself out on the thin mattress, he was asleep almost instantly. He did not dream.

The Force was a curious thing. Luke had struggled in the beginning of his training. The simplest actions exhausted him. And even after four years of training, there were times that he found himself straining to maintain control of his powers. But the moment he had given himself over to the Dark Side, everything just became simpler. It was exactly as the diminutive Jedi Master Yoda had explained it to him; the Dark Side was faster, more easily accessible. Luke had found his abilities instantly heightened and the well from which he drew his power seemed deeper than ever.

Thanks to his now heightened powers, he was woken several long heartbeats before the chime rang at his door. "Come in," he called, sitting up and stretching his muscles. His shoulders were on fire after his battle with Vader.

The double doors slid apart and a man stepped through. He was on the short side, rather thin with drooping cheeks and graying brown hair. The man wore the insignia of Fleet Admiral.

"Sir," he said with a Coruscanti accent. "I am Admiral Firmus Piett, commander of the _Executor_. I am at your disposal should you need anything, sir. The Emperor sends for your presence. He says that you are to meet him in shuttle bay SB-0793 immediately."

"Thank you, Admiral," Luke said, standing and rubbing the last vestiges of sleep from his eyes. "That is all."

"Sir." Admiral Piett gave a minute nod, turned on his heel, and strode out of the room.

Luke retrieved his lightsaber and hung it on his left hip. He yawned and stepped through the open doors into a deserted hallway. He consulted one of the convenient maps that were installed seemingly all over the station and searched for the shuttle bay. The readout showed him a map with the route to the hangar superimposed in red. He memorized the route and rushed off to meet his master and learn more about this mysterious mission they were to go on.

Within fifteen minutes Luke was maneuvering around the shards of the now broken Endor moon. He needed to get clear of the debris field before he could engage the Imperial shuttle's hyperdrive. Though the moon no longer existed, a significant portion of its mass still did. Entering hyperspace for more than a few seconds in the presence of a gravity well could severely damage the hyperdrive engines, even destroy the ship. The destruction of the moon had created a gravitic anomaly, throwing some sensors off. Luke dodged a particularly large chunk of rock, many times the size of the shuttle. It didn't matter. He could easily navigate the newly formed asteroids and be out of the gravity well by the time the navicomputer finished plotting their hyperspace coordinates. Their destination: Korriban.

**_Seven hours later…_**

The starlines abruptly reverted back to pinpricks as the shuttle exited hyperspace in the Horuset system around its sole world. Filling the forward viewport was the mottled red and brown planet Korriban, ancestral home to the Red Sith species according to the Emperor. Wispy clouds swirled around the upper-atmosphere of the barren world and Luke had a hard time picturing any sort of advanced civilization taking root here. Though the same could be said for Tatooine.

As he brought the shuttle in closer he could see a large atmospheric disturbance towards the south pole; bright flashes of brilliant blue and green illuminated the sky for a hundred kilometers. The northern latitudes were mostly clear, however, and it was there that he had been instructed to go. Near the equator was a vast scar in the planet's crust that stretched for dozens of kilometers. Dubbed the Valley of the Dark Lords, it was home to the highest concentration of Sith tombs in the galaxy; Sith Lords had been interring themselves in the Valley for millennia. The result was kilometer after kilometer of stone temples, statues, mausoleums, and crypts; the Valley was also a nexus for Dark Side energy, a concentration of the Force powerful enough to be felt from orbit.

Luke sat in the pilot seat. His master had refused to allow an Imperial pilot to fly them. The Sith planet's location was a carefully guarded secret. Long ago, during his earliest days as Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Republic, Palpatine had quietly had Korriban erased from official stellar maps. As far as the rest of the galaxy was concerned Korriban did not exist. Luke gazed down upon the seemingly lifeless and ostensibly unimportant orb with awe. Down there, he knew, were Sith secrets old before the formation of the Republic; older than the Jedi.

_Jedi_, he thought. _They felt threatened by the Dark Side. I did, too. I was a fool. They feared it, so they tried to destroy it._

The Emperor had used the seven hour flight to begin instructing his apprentice in some rudimentary Dark Side skills. Luke had already proved his talent with the Force on the Death Star. Palpatine merely sought to teach him the intricacies of the Force, to expand upon the training he'd already undergone. He had been pleased to discover Luke's inherent ability to make telepathic contact with him. It wasn't an ability shared by all Force-users and was a precious gift to possess. With it, they could contact one another regardless of the distance that separated them. He had also taught Luke the Sith Code, which must be learned by heart:

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion._

_Through passion, I gain strength._

_Through strength, I gain power._

_Through power, I gain victory._

_Through victory, my chains are broken._

He also related a mantra that was a personal favorite of his:

_I am the Heart of Darkness._

_I know no fear,_

_But rather I instill it in my enemies._

_I am the destroyer of worlds._

_I know the power of the Dark Side._

_I am the fire of Hate._

_All the Universe bows before me._

_I pledge myself to the Darkness._

_For I have found true life_

_In the death of the Light._

Luke had been repeating the words over and over in his mind, taking each line to heart. Verse by verse, he became stronger. He began to fully comprehend the futility of the Light Side. The real power was found in Darkness. How was any lasting change to be brought to the galaxy without power to back it up? It wasn't possible. The Jedi had tried.

The Emperor had explained to him that, though the Sith teachings far predated the Jedi, the modern Sith evolved as a direct result of rogue Jedi fed up with the Light façade of power and the corruption which existed within the Jedi Order like a cancerous mass. These rogues tried to act as the tools with which the mass could be excised. The Jedi Order was afraid of these so-called Dark Jedi and their power and so exiled them from the known galaxy, eventually finding their way to Korriban, where they ruled over the primitive Sith race as gods. They rallied behind them an army of Force adepts, recruited without the typical Jedi age bias, and waged war on the Jedi who had cast them out.

The war carried on for millennia, at times even slowing to a stand still. During the climax of the war, entire star systems were obliterated. The war finally dwindled some thousand years before the rise of the Empire. It ended on the far-flung and little-known world of Ruusan, where the Brotherhood of Darkness, led by Sith Lord Kaan, met with the Army of Light, led by Jedi Lord Hoth. Seven terrible battles were fought and the Sith lost all but two. Lord Kaan's army was decimated, whittled down to a bare tenth of its starting size. Seeing the impossible odds that faced him and his Brotherhood, Kaan led his remaining Sith Lords into vast underground caverns, where they performed an arcane ceremony to pool their Force into a "thought bomb" of volatile Force energy. The next day, Master Hoth led a troupe of Jedi to confront the Sith in the caverns. Kaan triggered the thought bomb, causing a massive explosion that instantly vaporized all Force-users in the radius of the blast. The Sith were extinct. Or so the Jedi believed.

A single Sith Lord had survived the war, Darth Bane, who had secretly orchestrated the final events which resulted in the annihilation of the remaining Sith, leaving him the sole worthy heir to their power and knowledge. He rewrote the standards of the Sith to better suit his own vision of the Order. No longer would the Sith flourish in great numbers, calling undue attention to themselves in a vain effort to openly oppose the Jedi. Only two shall there be, he decreed; one to wield the power and one to crave it. And so for the last thousand years, only two Sith existed at any one time, a Master and an Apprentice. Luke was taking his place in this ancient tradition and felt honored to do so.

He took the shuttle into Korriban's atmosphere, watching as the planet grew to fill the entire viewport. He flipped on the intercomm. "Master, we'll be landing in under ten minutes. I'm going to circle the Valley to find a safe place to land." He rerouted extra power to the fore shields for atmospheric entry.

_"Good. Land near the outskirts. We will enter on foot,"_ the Emperor responded, his voice an inhuman croak over the comm speakers.

"On foot, Master? I'm sure that I can find a suitable area within the Valley itself—."

_"You will land on the outskirts,"_ the Emperor repeated sharply. _"You will not question me again."_

"Yes, Master. I didn't mean to question you," said Luke, stung by the reproach. "I've located a safe zone two kilometers from the Valley."

_"That will do."_ Palpatine sighed. The boy would soon learn his place. The naming ceremony was the most important day in a new Sith's life. It is the day they are reborn, put on their path to fulfilling their destiny. It is the first step on a long journey, but the destination holds power and knowledge beyond the furthest stretches of the imagination.

Palpatine had meditated long about what to name his pupil during the long voyage, listening to the whispers of the Force. The name was very important. It stood for all that the individual Sith was and would become a word most feared by his enemies and his followers alike. It was the last step in becoming a Dark Lord. Palpatine had settled on a name only during the last hour of the flight. His apprentice would now be known to the galaxy as Darth Arisin. It combined two Ancient Sith words, _Aristros_, "to fall," and _Sintra_, meaning "star." Arisin literally translated to, "Fallen Sun."

The Emperor read over the ancient texts. It had been many years since Vader's formal naming ceremony. The text was written in the harsh glyphs of the Sith, the race from which the Dark Masters took their name. The ceremony was written on thousand year old parchment by the hand of Lord Bane himself. He had blessed it with the Dark Side, ensuring its survival through the centuries. Although Palpatine had procured this particular document early in his career as a senator, he had first laid eyes upon it at his own naming ceremony. He could still hear the powerful words spoken by his master…

_…Et manu Korribanos caton Mastus._

_Heli Sithu ponus Darthae Sydyus._

_Su mi quat ne hotem e pulis…_

He closed his eyes and laid back his head, smiling in remembrance. Though he had proctored three naming ceremonies before, his own would always stick out in his memory.

He and young Skywalker had very much in common, more so than either of them may have previously understood. When he was a child, Palpatine was sickly and weak. At the age of four, he was stricken with a disease which left him bedridden until he was nine. His parents were simple Naboo farmers, living in a rural home on the flat plains outside the capital city of Theed where they farmed oats and grains. They could not afford the expensive treatment which he required and were forced to tend to him themselves until the illness had run its course.

During the five years he was confined to his bed, his window was his only contact with the outside world. From his window, he could see the far off palace of Theed, perched on a cliff high above the wide plains, which stretched on for two hundred kilometers. He would stare off at the palace every day, sometimes for hours at a time. It was a symbol of strength to the ill child, a symbol of power. And he knew that one day, he would be strong enough to live in a palace even more grand than the one in Theed.

To fill those long bed-ridden hours, the boy used to read anything he could get his hands on. Though his family was poor he somehow always managed to have a stack of tattered old paper books beside his bed. He read adventure fiction and tales of ancient heroes, but he was drawn most to the history books, some of which read like the most fantastic fiction. His favorite stories were of the Great Hyperspace War, which served as the catalyst for the Sith War a thousand years later. When he became Supreme Chancellor many years later, he even had a frieze depicting a battle from the war installed in his outer office.

One day, as he pored over the titles of a fresh stack of books provided for him by his father, he came across a big leather-bound tome, a collection of stories called _The Golden Age of the Sith_. Although this was not the first time the tales of the Sith had crossed his path, it was the first time their Order had been glorified. The other histories all spoke from the perspective of the Republic and their Jedi guardians. But _Golden Age_ told some of the same tales, and even more new ones, from the eyes of the Sith and their Empire.

That book had always been his favorite; he must have read it ten times at least. But he was always furious by the end. He always sympathized with the Sith. They were exiled from the Republic for their beliefs and tended to themselves for thousands of years. It always seemed to him that the Jedi had no right to drive them off the way they had. It wasn't fair. He thought the Jedi deserved to go to war with the Sith. He only wished the Sith had won. Could they have really made the galaxy any worse than the Jedi? Where were the Jedi to protect children like him from diseases too expensive for their parents to treat? The Sith spoken of in that volume took care of their people.

Palpatine had always cherished that book; he still owned his boyhood copy, kept safe in his office in the Imperial Palace. Indeed, that was one of the few remaining ties to his previous life. When he became Supreme Chancellor, he had had his family's land, including his childhood home, transformed into an automated grain processing center. For all intents and purposes, he had no past.

It had been many years since he had thought of his past. He did not prefer to dwell in the past, but rather to look into the future. Triumph lies ahead, never behind. The past was over; it could not be changed. But the future…the future he could mold to his will.

_"Master,"_ called Luke from the cockpit. _"We're coming up on some turbulence. Restraints are advised."_ On cue, the shuttle jolted hard to starboard. The Emperor could hear air rushing past the ship at many hundreds of kilometers per hour. After a particularly hard jostle, the repulsors hummed to life and the ride quickly smoothed out.

He could sense the Valley nearby. It was imbibed with the energies of a thousand generations of Sith Masters. Much wisdom was stored there, if one knew where to look.

Piloting through the turbulent atmosphere in a ship with such a high profile as the _Lambda_ took all of Luke's skills. _Just like Beggar's Canyon back home_, he thought to himself. _Home. Tatooine._ Luke had listened intently as the Emperor told him more of his father's life; he was a slave in Mos Espa and was the only human to ever compete in and win a podrace. It surprised him how alike he and his father were. Both were good with their hands, they both had aspirations of leaving their world behind and making it in the galaxy. Both had had their families taken from them tragically. Neither wished to return home but both did in order to save someone they loved. One difference separated father and son; Anakin had failed. He failed to save his mother just as he failed the Jedi Order and the Sith after that. Luke had rescued Han and Leia from Jabba the Hutt. He had succeeded. He hadn't let down the ones he loved when it mattered most. And he never would.

He brought the shuttle down to a cruising altitude of fifty meters, skimming the surface at a blinding speed. The rugged terrain rushed by underneath them in a mottled blur of reds and browns and grays. As Luke surveyed the planet's landscape, he noted how utterly barren it was. The ground cover consisted mostly of rocks and low-lying shrubbery. No trees, no flowers, no large animals. The life sensors could pick up nothing. _Fitting_, he thought. _A world of the dead is itself lifeless._

The navicomputer indicated that he was coming up on the designated landing zone; it was a relatively flat area just at the mouth of a large canyon. Sensors indicated breathable air with somewhat higher than normal concentrations of oxygen and helium. The gravity was one-point-four times that of Coruscant, so moving around would take a bit more effort. Luke had studied the geological readout of the planet as he piloted toward the Valley. It seemed that the world's electromagnetic field was weaker than most habitable worlds' and Korriban was prone to large and often times very violent electrical storms originating high in the atmosphere. Solar radiation was a minor concern, high enough to possibly explain the lack of large life forms, but not so high as to be harmful to him or his master during the short duration of their stay.

Within a matter of minutes, they had reached the landing area Luke had chosen. He circled the zone twice before dropping down. The landing gear lowered as the downward-pointing fins that gave the shuttle its characteristic shape folded up and the ship set down gently like an enormous winged insect. He undid his restraints and moved into the passenger compartment. He would need to change into the ceremonial robes before they could depart.

The Emperor looked up as Luke entered; their eyes locked, yellow and blue. "Can you feel the power of this place?" he asked. "The Dark Side permeates every rock, every blade of grass. Simply being here again is…intoxicating." The Emperor basked in the power of the Dark Side, which hung like an invisible cloud of malevolence over seemingly the entire planet.

Luke nodded. "It's a little overwhelming," he admitted. "I've never felt so much power concentrated in one place before."

"Nor are you likely to anywhere else," Palpatine said. "This is a special place. There are other such nexuses of the Force spread across the galaxy, but none so potent with the Dark Side as Korriban. None that I have discovered, anyhow," he added. "Go," he commanded. "You must change so that we may begin your journey. You have much to look forward to, my apprentice."

Luke stepped back into the shuttle's 'fresher, where his Sith robes had been hung. They were fairly nondescript, made from the same thick, heavy material as his master's robes. They were charcoal black, hooded, and long, lacking any pattern or distinctive features. They extended far past his feet and hung on the ground. The sleeves went five centimeters past his hands even with his arms outstretched, making him feel like a child who had tried on his father's coat. He flipped up the hood. It hid his face in deep shadows. He made certain his lightsaber hung securely at his left hip before belting the whole thing together with a sash made from the same heavy fabric. He fastened the cloak at the neck with a simple tarnished silver brooch. It was an ancient Sith symbol, a circle with three prongs sitting horizontally to either side like a sunburst. To Luke it looked like a Dark eye, staring deep inside the wearer, searching for their power. _It will not be disappointed_, thought Luke. He finished dressing and pulled on a pair of heavy black leather gloves. It was time.

Luke came out of the 'fresher and returned to the cabin where his master waited for him. The Emperor stood and looked over his apprentice. "You are about to take your first steps into a world far greater than you could possibly imagine," the old man croaked.

_Ironic_, thought Luke. Obi-Wan had said almost the same thing to him when he agreed to become a Jedi. _He failed to deliver._

The Emperor stepped over to the control panel and lowered the boarding ramp. Coolant steam hissed from the hydraulics as the ramp extended. Korriban's atmosphere rushed into the cabin. The air was dry and dusty. It was not cold, yet Luke noticed himself pulling his robes tighter around him. The ramp touched down with a light crunch of dirt. Luke took a deep breath and descended to the planet's surface. The Emperor followed close behind.

When Luke took his first step onto the Sith world, he instantly felt the power of the planet increase ten-fold; it was as though an electric current shot up through his body, energizing him. The air practically buzzed with the energy. The Emperor appeared behind him.

"You begin to understand," he said, "the power this place can offer you, just from physical contact." He closed his eyes. "You can almost see it, taste it, hold out your hand and _grab_ it for yourself." He seemed to be feeding off the Dark energy the way a plant feeds on sunlight.

"Yes," Luke replied. The wind tugged lightly against his raised hood. "I feel it. It's incredible, Master. It's in my blood, my bones. I can feel myself drawing strength from it just by being here."

"Lead us, Apprentice," Palpatine instructed suddenly. "Your journey begins here. Let the Force guide you. It will show you the path you seek."

Luke looked back at his master for a moment, then turned slowly, examining the landscape all around, not just with his eyes but with the Force. Abruptly, he stopped. He was pointing north east of the shuttle.

"There," he said confidently. "I sense something in that direction, like a beckoning voice." He was pointing at a nearby range of low-lying mountains. He dropped a hand to his him and felt the reassuring weight of the lightsaber at his belt and started off in the direction he had divined.

He was startled when he peered back over his shoulder to ensure that the Emperor was following and saw—_nothing_. The Emperor had vanished.

_Master?_ Luke called to him through the Force. _Master, where are you?_

There was no reply. The Force instructed him to press on, that all of his questions would be answered somewhere in those mountains just outside the Valley of the Sith.

Steeling himself for whatever was to come, he set off toward the mountains, toward his destiny.

The longer he trod upon the planet's surface, the more connected to it he became. He could sense every rock, every shrub around him. He felt the air currents changing far above. He sensed a predatory insect on the prowl somewhere close by, consumed by hunger and instinct. Everything was an extension of his own body. He felt like he _was_ the planet. Korriban had an aura unlike anything Luke had ever felt, almost like a living organism. He wondered if that was why the great Sith Masters had chosen this as the eternal resting place for the most powerful beings in the galaxy or whether it was a result of countless generations of Darksiders practicing their arcane magicks. It was as though something about this world naturally amplified his already strong Force sensitivity.

He decided to conduct an experiment as he walked.

He gave a gentle nudge with the Force, just enough to create a small plume of dust. Were he on any other world, it _would_ have been a small plume. On Korriban, however, his supercharged power lifted a quickly rising column of swirling dust twenty meters into the air. Without thinking, he instinctively reached out with the Force again, this time in an attempt to clear the air. His gentle breeze manifested itself as a gale-force wind, which tore at his robes and pelted him with dirt and small rocks and sending up a wall of dust a hundred meters tall. He immediately squelched his use of the Force. The wind stopped. Dust hung thick in the air around him, obscuring his way and choking his lungs. If he wasn't careful, he'd wind up stirring up a dust cloud big enough to cover the entire region of the planet. Until he calibrated his power to Korriban's levels, he felt it best to avoid the more physical powers.

Luke reached the mountains fairly easily, taking only a quarter of an hour. The increased gravity was definitely noticeable but didn't become an issue until the terrain began to rise and the grade became steep and rocky. Judging by the sun's position on the horizon, Luke knew nightfall was soon to come. He was nowhere near his destination and would need to find shelter within the next half hour. After ten minutes of searching, Luke found a cave that offered a suitable cover for the night. He settled down barely a quarter hour before the sun fell quickly below the far off horizon, painting the sky with brilliant splashes of purple and crimson and gold. Growing up in a desert, Luke knew that when the sun fell on worlds such as this, so too did the temperature. In order keep warm, Luke experimented with a sort of heat ball by rapidly accelerating the air molecules directly in front of him. After his initial experimentation on the open plains, Luke felt moderately confident that he could control his enhanced Force powers. And thanks to theplanet's natural amplification, he could maintain the ball of heat indefinitely, even during sleep, with virtually no exertion.

He was awakened hours later by a deafening crash. His initial impression was that the area was undergoing aerial bombardment, so fierce were the explosions. He put his hand to the smooth cave wall. There was another crash, but Luke felt only minimal vibration. Were it a turbolaser blast or any other conventional weapon striking the surface, the impact would have been felt from anywhere within earshot. Whatever it was, it wasn't hitting the ground. He rose to his feet and moved through the cave toward the entrance, using the Force to boost his vision in the dark tunnel. As he neared the mouth if the cave, he immediately felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Flashes lit up the inside of the cave like daylight. Luke stared out at the sky. It was alive with the discharge of a violent electrical storm. He stepped outside and stood watching this fantastic display of nature's fury with awe and fascination. He doubted he was in any danger; the storm would pass before long.

He stood watching, absorbed, for nearly half an hour before he decided to try something. He wasn't sure what inspired it, the Force perhaps. He lowered his hood and raised his hands to the sky. He drew upon the Force, reaching down deep, not just into his own store but the planet's as well. He wasn't entirely sure what he was doing, but something guided his actions and he _knew_ it would work. He closed his eyes and in his mind he saw the forks of energy bending and twisting to his will, traveling along the paths to which he guided them.

He opened his eyes and reached out with the Force to grab hold of the lightning, manipulate it, command it where to strike. He directed it into a large boulder which lay several meters in front of the cave mouth. Bolts of electricity, vividly colored blue and purple and green, altered their paths and struck the rock. Bolt after bolt hit home, shattering it and melting it into slag. Luke released his exertion of the Force. One final strike hit the ground beside him, leaving a glowing five centimeter wide impression in the dirt.

Luke instinctively leapt back, coming down four meters away and clumsily striking a boulder as he landed. Winded, he rolled over and got to his knees. Then he started laughing.

"Well," he said aloud to himself. "It worked."

The power of the lighting had reduced the boulder to a blob of molten glass, which poured out onto the sandy ground in glowing orange streams of fire. The heart of the blob still glowed yellow, quickly cooling to red in the frigid night air. He got to his feet and moved as close to the slagged rock as he could before the heat radiating off it stopped him in his tracks. There was something special about it, he knew. The Force had directed him to do this for a reason. He looked at it, studied it. Finally, he knew what he had to do.

He found himself reaching deep down inside and summoning forth devastating Force lightning. With his left hand extended before him, he directed it into the still glowing rock, melting it further, refining it, scorching away the impurities. The planet's natural magnification increased the power greatly. The rock became soft and malleable again under his assault. It bubbled and spewed liquid stone like a volcano as gas trapped within the rock superheated and escaped. He quenched the outpouring of deadly energy, satisfied with the results. The heat was great from a meter away, but he ignored it. He crouched down on his haunches and began to meditate. He would soon have his answers.

For three hours he sat like that, as still as if he'd been forged from duranium. He stared out at the cooling rock but didn't see the rock; his eyes gazed into the rock, beyond it. He forged a connection with the stone, poured himself into it, surrounded it with the Force, with the Dark Side. He let the Force flow from his body into the rock, becoming part of it, altering it in subtle ways. By the time the sun peeked over the far horizon, it was finished.

His legs burned, still locked in a squatting position. He stood, ignoring the ache. He approached the newly formed glass lump, inspecting what he had done but uncertain as to what he was going to find. He wasn't sure exactly what had happened while in his trance, but he knew _something_ had occurred. As Luke ran his bare hand over the smooth surface of the now cool mound of opaque glass, he sensed more than knew that it was a hollow shell. He grabbed a fist-sized rock from beside him and used it to smash the crystalline bubble without hesitation. Inside, he found what appeared to be a gem. _No_, he thought. _A formed lump of this glass. A _crystal.

He reached inside and retrieved it. It was about the size of a data chip, barely larger than his thumb in the palm of his hand. It was deep red and perfectly clear, perfectly formed. The Force had forged this gem in the heart of the molten blob, using it like a blast furnace to combine the elements into _this_. As Luke held it, he felt the power it contained. It was infused with the Dark Side. He knew at once why the Force had guided him to create it. He was meant to use it; this would be the focusing crystal for his new lightsaber, which he would construct it after he and his master left Korriban.

_Master._ His mind returned to his mission. Quickly getting a sense of his surroundings, he regained his direction. He placed the gem safely within his robes and set off back on his path.

Following the pull of the Force, he contemplated just what would be in store for him at the end of his journey. He considered the new lightsaber focusing crystal the Force had instructed him to create and how quickly the Dark Side seemed to be growing within him. He ruminated over everything he'd accomplished, everything he'd experienced in the mere hours since he'd given himself over to the Emperor's teachings. He could scarcely believe it had been less than a Standard day since he stood defiantly before the Emperor on the Death Star, vowing to him and Vader both that he would never turn to the Dark Side. But that was before he saw the truth, the truth about the Rebellion, about his father, about Obi-Wan. Before he saw the truth about the Jedi and their way.

He'd only been walking a short time when he entered a high-walled ravine and sensed a strong presence somewhere behind him. Instinct and the Force guided his reflexes and he managed to duck and roll just as a large rock shot through the space his head had occupied a heartbeat before. He completed the roll and sprang up to face his opponent, drawing his lightsaber as he did so. He gazed up, surveying all around, his emerald blade humming through the air. Another rock flew at him. He caught it easily on the edge of his blade and the two halves flew harmlessly past him. He expanded his sphere of awareness, hoping to locate his assailant. On this planet, his range could be easily several hundred kilometers. Although he was unable to detect a physical being, he could still sense a powerful Dark presence nearby. Whatever it was, it was strangely diffuse, seeming to fluctuate in intensity like a flame.

"Show yourself!" he demanded, his voice shouting back at him from the high stone walls. He pressed onward slowly and the ravine began to widen. He extinguished his blade but kept the hilt gripped firmly in hand. The ravine bent sharply, widening to at least a hundred meters. "Are you a coward?" he called out, trying to sound as confident as he could. "Cowardice is a weakness, and weakness is death, on this planet more than any other," he said, remembering the wise words his master had told him.

Deep booming laughter echoed down off the sheer rock walls. It wasn't coming from anywhere, but _everywhere_. "You are very brave, boy. Or very stupid," the voice rang out with the same omnipresence the laughter had. It seemed to surround Luke, to come as much from within as without.

"Who are you?" Luke asked firmly. "Why have you attacked me?" He was thrown backwards by a strong Force blast.

"Impetuous young fool! Who are you to question _me_?" As the last word was spoken, a figure appeared before Luke. It was a Human man. He had broad shoulders and a square jaw and stood easily a head taller than Luke himself. His long hair was tied back and hung loosely over one shoulder. Ancient symbols adorned his combat armor, which showed numerous scenes of battle and carnage. A thick bronze medallion hung from his neck. From his belt hung a lightsaber unlike any Luke had ever seen. Though barely longer than that of an ordinary hilt, he noted a second blade emitter sprouting from the end of it.

"I am Luke Skywalker, apprentice to Emperor Palpatine." Luke looked up into the man's black eyes, which seemed to burn through to see the core of him.

"Skywalker? No, Skywalker was the name of the last Apprentice," boomed the man.

"Yes. Anakin Skywalker was my father," Luke confirmed. "His dedication to the Order was found wanting. I've killed him and taken his place." Luke still did not know who this man was, only that he was once a powerful Dark Lord.

"Lord Sidious took a new Apprentice much sooner than many would deem appropriate," said the man. Luke was momentarily puzzled before realizing that "Sidious" must be the Emperor's Sith name. "He has also lived far longer than most Sith before him. The Humans, anyhow. How are we to know if you are truly worthy of the honorary title Dark Lord of the Sith?" He narrowed his eyes at Luke. "You will be Tested," he told him. "It will prove your worth. Or destroy you should you prove undeserving."

"My master believes me worthy," Luke said angrily. "I don't need to prove myself to _you_. You haven't even told me who you are."

"I am the Dark Lord Exar Kun, the greatest Sith since the Lord Naga Sadow before me," the Sith said dramatically.

Luke momentarily dumbstruck. During the journey to Korriban, the Emperor had filled him in on key points in the history of the Sith. Lord Kun's exploits were legendary. He died on Yavin IV four thousand years ago, supposedly trapping his spirit within the massive stone temples erected by his Massassi Sith slaves.

"But—" Luke began, puzzled.

"You wonder how I am here," said Lord Kun, reading Luke's thoughts. "When I am supposed to be haunting the ancient pyramids on the fourth moon of Yavin. Yes, I do possess them. My essence was confined there when I died, a gift from a blasted Jedi called Sunrider," he spat. "However, through the unending power of the Dark Side, I am able to simultaneously inhabit this glorious planet." He motioned all around him with both arms. "This is enough meaningless conversation," he boomed. "You will be tested now. Prepare yourself." Without warning, he dropped to his knees, pressed both hands palms down on the ground. Dark energies poured from his fingertips in the form of purple lightning, which disappeared straight into the ground.

He then brought his hands over his head, much as Luke had done the night before, and with a thunderous clap, a bolt of pure Dark Side energy flashed down and penetrated the dirt, blasting up huge chunks of flaming rock. The ground trembled and split where the bolt hit and an enormous clawed hand shot up out of the hole; blue energy crackled between its bony fingers. As the opening gaped wider, the creature began to pull itself free of its rocky prison, first the other hand, then a leathery armored shoulder.

Luke looked on in confused silence as the creature let out a bellow that was all too familiar. The monster hoisted itself out of the hole and showed itself to Luke in full. It stood eight meters tall on stubby legs, with a hunched back, and disproportionately long arms. Its spidery fingers ended with wicked claws. Its mouth was a nightmare of crooked meter-long teeth and it stared down at him with a pair of beady black eyes. It was a fully grown rancor.

"But how?" Luke gasped, completely perplexed. Fear flooded his veins like ice water. "What kind of illusion is this?"

"Oh, it is no illusion. That creature," Lord Kun gestured to the waiting rancor, "is quite real. In fact, _you_ chose it. This is your test; a confrontation between you and one of your greatest fears." Kun began to laugh. "Very nice choice, young Skywalker. I'll enjoy this one, I think." He levitated himself up to a rocky outcropping thirty meters up and glared down with perverse glee.

"I am Sith," Luke called out, rallying his courage against the tight ball that sat heavily in his gut. "I have no fear!" He kept his eyes locked on the monster which stood waiting twenty meters away.

"Your thoughts betray you," Kun yelled from his new location. "This test delves deep into the subconscious and manifests something which you fear greatly. It cannot be fooled and it cannot make a mistake. Even the Sith are not without fear," he told the young Sith apprentice. "Only a fool fears nothing. However, a Sith does not turn away from what he is afraid of. He draws strength from it. 'There is no fear, there is power'," he quoted the Sith code. "Turn your fear into the power with which to defeat it." Kun sensed Skywalker's potential. With some instruction, he may just have it in him to become a great Sith Lord. Perhaps Lord Sidious was not as senile as he previously thought.

As soon as Kun finished speaking, the rancor gave a tremendous roar and charged.

Luke closed his eyes, feeling the deep vibrations of the approaching monster. He harvested the fear growing inside his gut and transfigured it into hatred for the beast. He opened his eyes, wrapping the Force around himself like a protective blanket. He threw his arms out as if to block the charging behemoth; instead he unleashed a powerful Force blast that hit the rancor square in the chest, knocking it off its feet. The rancor toppled to the ground, hitting with enough force to dislodge rocks from the high walls around them. Recovering quickly, it roared again with unbridled rage and took to all fours, coming at Luke with incredible speed.

Luke channeled the Dark Side again and sent another Force blast, but this time the beast was prepared. It stopped and braced itself, using its long arms to anchor itself firmly to the ground. It hardly flinched as the wave overtook it and moved on. The rancor resumed its attack, reaching Luke in seconds. He jumped and somersaulted over the creature's head, momentarily escaping its field of vision. Using this opportunity, he drew his lightsaber.

The blade extended with a _snap-hiss_ and he charged at the monster's back. The rancor, hearing the saber ignition, turned to meet this new noise. It saw Luke as a blur just before the saber blade slashed across the back of its leg, biting into the monster's flesh. While its thick hide protected it some, damage _was_ done. The cauterized wound was not serious but it opened a gash a meter long and several centimeters deep, exposing the dark red muscle underneath. It roared in pain and swiped at that which had wounded it. The powerful claws, any one of which was easily capable of shearing Luke in two, missed him by mere centimeters as he dove out of the way. The talons dug deep troughs in the sandy floor of the ravine. It dislodged its hand from the ground and went after Luke again.

Luke felt one with the Force. It warned him of impending danger and allowed him to react before the beast attacked. It seemed to slow time, to allow him to weigh all of his options before acting. In perhaps a futile gesture, he lashed out with Force lightning. The dark energy scorched the rancor's hide but otherwise seemed to cause it no real damage. As long as he could continue to evade it, however, it would tire and Luke could move in for the kill. _If only I had a big heavy gate I could bring down on its head_, he thought bitterly. But this was no pet monster. This was a wild, feral rancor. He doubted very much that it would be so easy to kill as the Hutt crimelord's had been.

He began to formulate a plan, but he would need to draw the creature back toward the hole it had crawled out from in order for it to work. He led the rancor toward the fissure, now a hundred meters ahead. Using the planet's natural Force enhancement, he began ripping up great chunks of dirt and rock, enlarging the hole as he did so. He then reached deep inside, calling on his anger and his hate and his fear of the creature which had nearly killed him on Tatooine not so very long ago. Extending his left arm in front of him, he hurled Dark lightning as powerful as the Force and this planet would allow into the sheer rock wall beside the pit, now at least fifteen meters deep.

Timing was critical; if he didn't work fast enough, he'd be killed himself. The rock began to shatter; red-hot chunks tumbled down rock face into the pit. _Not enough. Use everything to your advantage._ He commanded the Dark Side, calling upon nature itself to assist him. Dark energy rained down from the sky and poured into the wall, an imitation of the events the night before. Now the rock began to melt, oozing freely into the hole. Luke approached the lip and leapt, clearing the twenty meter span with some help from the Force. He tumbled in mid-air and landed on the opposite side, facing the oncoming rancor which bellowed angrily as it propelled itself along with tremendous speed. He used every ounce of power he had to increase the magnitude of the lightning, feeling himself begin to tremble with fatigue. Molten rock pooled at the bottom of the pit and was filling it rapidly.

The rancor had reached the edge now and leapt for Luke, its form warped by the intense shimmering waves of heat which rose off the pool of liquid rock. The beast would have cleared the pit had a well-placed Force blast not slammed into it midway across. Its forward momentum lost, the creature plummeted like a stone straight down. It howled in pain as its legs plunged into the molten rock, instantly bursting into flames.

The rancor thrashed and roared in agony as its body was burned away. It clawed at the edge of the pit, desperately trying to climb out. But it proved futile. The monster's head was soon sinking below the bubbling rock and the thrashing stopped. Luke watched as the rock began to cool. The rancor was dead, completely encased, save for one clawed hand, which thrust up out of the now solidifying rock like some macabre tree stump, blackened and smoking.

Luke had passed his test.

Lord Kun applauded loudly atop his perch. "Very good, Skywalker!" he called down. "Your ingenuity is impressive. Strategy is important when the Force is not enough, as you have just demonstrated. You have convinced me of your worth. I wish you well on the rest of your journey. That which you seek is not far. Trust in the Dark Side to guide you and you need never be disappointed." With those departing words, he vanished into nothing. The outcropping upon which he had stood was left empty; were it not for the still smoldering pit before him, Luke might have thought he'd imagined the whole thing.

"Thank you, Master Kun," he breathed heavily to empty air. Without pausing to rest, Luke set out to finish his quest. Lord Kun had said it wasn't far. He would soon be reunited with his master.

It took Luke less than an hour to reach his final destination; the path he had been following suddenly blossomed out into a large semi-circular clearing. The path terminated in a sheer rock wall rising hundreds of meters straight up. At the base of the wall was the entrance to a cave, barely three meters by two. Weathered glyphs spelled out an incantation of some sort around the edge of the opening; the harsh Sith lettering may have been a welcome or a warning, but its meaning seemed clear to Luke all the same. Great power could be found within. Whether it be to the individual's favor or detriment remained to be seen.

As he approached the gaping black maw, two torches flanking the entrance burst to life, burning with unnatural black flames. When he entered he noted that the cave's interior was lined with the same black-flame torches, whose silent tongues flickered endlessly, casting eerie purple light. More Sith hieroglyphs covered the walls. He couldn't even begin to decipher their meaning. He noticed a patch of writing that was clearly different from the rest. It appeared to be scorched into the rock wall, as if by a lightsaber, perhaps. The cave floor was well worn; Luke was not the first to journey through this cave. Quite the contrary; hundreds had taken this path before him.

Liquid could be heard dripping from somewhere deep in the cave. Luke wound through the labyrinthine tunnels, following the pull of the Dark Side, trusting it to lead him true. At times the ceiling dipped so low he was forced to hunch over to avoid hitting his head. The scraping of his boots echoed all around him, betraying the massive scope of the hidden tunnel system. The Sith symbols had ended some time ago, but the torches continued, bathing everything in their Darklight. The floor had been sloping upwards from the moment he entered the cave and after thirty minutes, he figured he had to be nearing the top of the mountain.

Finally, as he rounded a sharp corner, he was contacted by his master.

_Apprentice_. The Emperor's voice rang loud in his head.

_Master! I've made it. Where are you?_ A flood of relief washed over Luke as he reached the end of his journey victorious.

_I am not far, Apprentice. This moment belongs to you. _

_Yes, Master. I'm ready._ Luke quickened his pace, eager to reunite with his master and receive his name. Within moments he spied a glow fifty meters down the tunnel. This glow was the yellow-orange of natural light, not the flame of the Dark Side.

He sprinted the last thirty meters, unable to wait any longer, but slowed as he neared the opening of a chamber. With a deep breath, he stepped inside.

The chamber itself was a circle about twenty meters in diameter. Its ceiling was high, lost in the dancing shadows cast by countless flickering candles spaced around the circumference of the large room. The smooth stone walls curved up slightly and he guessed they met somewhere in the shadows to form a dome. Elaborately woven tapestries lined the walls, depicting ancient battles, personal coats of arms, and what appeared to be a number of Sith spells and ceremonies. The thick hangings were incalculably complex; every last detail was painstakingly embroidered into the rich fabric.

Across the room, directly opposite of the entrance, sat a grand throne atop a short stone dais. It was there that his master sat in wait.

The throne itself was carved out of a rich wood and covered with inlaid gems which, to Luke, appeared as though they were imbued with the Dark Side. They each glowed dimly with their own internal light. As he stepped towards the dais, his master rose to greet him.

"Congratulations, my apprentice," the Emperor greeted him. "You have been Tested and you have passed. And if I may say so, you handled yourself better by far than your father did when _he_ was Tested." He stepped down to the floor. "His Testing was almost too much for him. But your character is much stronger." The Emperor's words struck Luke as completely genuine.

Luke bowed his head in respect. "I knew I wouldn't fail, Master. I wouldn't allow myself."

"I know, child. Sit." He gestured up at the throne. Luke stepped up onto the dais and sat as he was instructed. "You shall sit here whilst I perform the ceremony. It is very important that you do not step down," Palpatine warned. "Otherwise, the ceremony shall be compromised and may never again be performed for you. You would never be Named."

"I understand, Master. I'm ready," he proclaimed confidently. Luke rested his head against the back of the throne and wondered how many others had sat in that very chair just as he now did. He closed his eyes, clearing his mind completely, just waiting to be transformed into the man he was always meant to be. His eyes snapped open in surprise when a sharp pain flared across his left palm.

The Emperor held a ceremonial dagger carefully as he collected his apprentice's blood in a golden chalice. "The ritual requires blood," he explained. "Yours," he said, cutting into his own hand, "and mine." He allowed his blood to mix with Luke's. He then ran the blade first over Luke's cut, then his own. Both healed almost instantly. Luke felt the Force binding the wound, knitting the skin closed.

Palpatine walked across to the chamber to a stone alter, upon which sat a shallow clay bowl. He poured the contents of the cup slowly into the bowl, all the while speaking the sacred words:

_"Et manu Korribanos caton Mastus._

_Je Lordo Darthae Sydyus hameh._

_V dapota e Mastus a Masti._

_Palimano eh Skiwokar des notans_

_er mis_._Bostne mi tonda el."_

The words echoed loudly in the chamber. He continued:

_"Et manu Korribanos caton Mastus._

_Je mis un pecto e Talio vi_

_Luexo manu es Sithu. Mi Lueme_

_v nixt e stapani der Luexo hort._

_Mi Sithu."_

As the words were spoken, a cold breeze began to blow; the candles flickered and the tapestries began to sway. The Dark Side permeated everything. Palpatine raised his arms before him:

_"Et manu Korribanos caton Mastus._

_Ste ne Tamid di e quaro Luexo_

_E mis v Luemo Stert ex."_

Luke closed his eyes against the wind, which now bit at his face. Then, as suddenly as it had begun, it died away. Luke opened his eyes and was shocked to see the chamber full of at least a dozen standing figures all staring right at him. _No_, he thought. _They're staring _into_ me_. He looked around at all the faces, finally finding one he recognized.

"Lord Kun," he said firmly, breaking the silence. "I thank you again for the lesson earlier. I won't forget it."

Lord Exar Kun nodded slowly, arms crossed over his muscular chest. "You've the greatest potential I've felt in a millennium. You may yet bring the Sith back into the nightmares of the galaxy. The Order will again see glory. Though you should watch yourself," he said, turning his attention to Palpatine. "Lord Sidious has been through four apprentices thus far. His first lasted only weeks."

Palpatine bowed respectfully before the Lord, taking the offense in uncharacteristic stride. "Through no fault of my own, I assure you, my Lord. The first few losses were—unfortunate," he said, carefully choosing his words.

"And the last?" asked another Dark Lord. Elaborate tattoos scrolled across her face; her long black hair was adorned with various beads and bits of metal and what looked suspiciously like tiny bones.

"Necessary, M'lady," Palpatine responded patiently. "He was plotting to destroy me. I have yet to pass on my knowledge. Luckily," he gestured at Luke, who now stood atop the dais, "the situation was resolved better than I could have imagined. Had he been worthy of the mantle, would Lord Vader not have emerged victorious?" He paused but when he received no argument, he went on. "Now, my Lords, may we continue with the ceremony?"

"We shall begin the Recognition!"

A loud voice boomed out. It seemed to issue from everywhere at once, just as Lord Kun's had earlier in the day. This one, however, carried with it an inherent air of power and authority, much more so than Lord Kun's had. A figure appeared standing before Luke. He was very large, over two meters tall. He wore simple leather gauntlets and thick hide boots. A heavy black cloak concealed the rest. His two large, gloved hands rose and lowered his hood, chasing away the shadows which had completely obscured his face. As the light shown upon the man's features, Luke could not help but be amazed. He was not rugged, as many of the Masters were. In fact, many females of various species would likely find him mildly attractive. His face was strong, sporting a broad, square chin. His head was devoid of a single strand of hair. His complexion was light, but not pale. Vivid yellow eyes stared out from their deep sockets.

"I, Lord Darth Bane of Apatros, recognize Luke Skywalker to be the sole Apprentice of Lord Darth Sidious. May he be purged of the Light and truly become the Fire of Hate."

Luke gulped. Darth Bane had created the very tradition the young Sith was upholding. So wise was he that even Sith from before long Bane's time were participating in support of his revised doctrine. The honor of his attendance was great.

Lord Kun spoke next. "I, Lord Exar Kun of Yavin 4, recognize Skywalker to be the sole—and _last_—Apprentice of Lord Sidious." He gave Sidious a look.

The Sith woman who spoke before now stepped forward.

"I, XoXaan of Dathomir, recognize Skywalker as the sole Apprentice of Lord Darth Sidious." Luke noted her strangely accented Basic.

This continued until every Lord had formally recognized Luke as a Sith Apprentice. He couldn't hold back his smile as pride swelled within him. He silently vowed to each one of them in turn not to let them down.

Lord Bane spoke again. "Lord Sidious, you have chosen a name?"

"I have," said Sidious, giving a nod.

"Then you may proceed with the ritual." Lord Bane stepped aside and Lord Sidious took his place before Luke. Their eyes locked. Luke lowered himself down onto the throne and waited to be Named.

Sidious spoke a final verse in the Ancient Sith tongue:

_"Et manu Korribanos caton Mastus._

_Heli Sithu ponus Darthae Arisin._

_Su mi ne hotem e pulis."_

"Lord Darth Arisin, so shall he be Named!" shouted Lord Bane.

"So shall he be Named!" repeated the other Lords in unison.

"Rise, Darth Arisin," Sidious instructed.

The newly christened Lord Arisin did as he was told. He had been Named and felt more powerful than ever. He had cast aside his former self and had been reborn in the fire of the Dark Side.

"We must now begin the Purge," Lord Bane called out to the others. He brought his hands together in a thunderous clap and a strong wind blew about the chamber, snuffing out the candles and leaving only the glowing gems in the throne for light.

He could see the spirits of the Dark Lords begin to dissolve into the wind as if they were made of nothing more than sand. They grew translucent and swirled together to form a glowing vortex of Dark Side energy. This unnatural funnel moved toward Arisin, who stood his ground firmly. It halted before him, looming over him and growing larger. Suddenly, a tendril shot out and speared into his chest.

Arisin squeezed his eyes shut and threw his head back, gritting his teeth against the agonizing pain. Another tendril shot into him. Then another, and another. As the swirling wind grew more intense, so, too, did the pain. Just when he felt as thought the pain were about overtake him, it ceased.

He dropped to his knees, exhausted, and slowly opened his eyes. The vortex had disappeared and all save one Lord had vanished with it. Lord Bane again stood before him.

"You have been Purged; your Light is extinguished. You are Sith." Lord Bane faded before Arisin could utter a sound.

A hand came to rest on his shoulder. His master stood beside him. Lord Sidious helped his apprentice to his feet. Arisin turned to him, breathing hard.

"I've done it, Master," he said proudly. "I did it."

"Yes, Lord Arisin," the Emperor replied. "Welcome to your destiny, my son."


	3. Ascension

**Chapter 3: Ascension**

That breath.

It was robotic and sterile, so non-threatening and ominous at the same time. It was a sound that simultaneously terrified and infuriated her. And it was drawing nearer. Darkness enshrouded her, blinding her to the looming threat which stalked progressively nearer. They were playing this hunter/prey game beneath the Emperor's platform aboard the second Death Star. She had no memory of how she found herself in the cavernous audience chamber; she only knew that she needed to escape. Somehow. The breath was all around her, closing in on her from all sides. She had to keep moving.

"Give yourself to the Dark Side." The deep, inhuman voice boomed right beside her. She gave a start at its unexpected proximity. "It is the only way you can save your friends."

"No. You're lying," she whispered. She moved away, pausing beside one of the platform's support legs; somewhere up above the Emperor was cackling. She had to keep moving, searching for a way out. She couldn't risk sitting still for too long. Her eyes searched the darkness for any sign of her pursuer. That rhythmic breath came from the right, so she turned left, stumbling over a raised section of the floor. She landed hard on her knees, sucking in a sharp breath through clenched teeth.

Blackness momentarily gave way to bright flashes as a wave of pain washed over her. The lights faded, however, and again she was left blind and in the dark. Forcing herself to her feet, she continued to evade the monster that stalked her.

"Do not be a fool! If you will not be turned, you _will_ be destroyed. Your power is strong." Suddenly, a crimson blade ignited centimeters from her face. She rolled to the floor and sprinted back the way she came. The last thing she saw before turning back to the darkness was the glow of the blade reflected in two black plasteel eyes. They were looking directly at her. The blade receded back into its hilt and everything was bathed once again in shadow. Heavy footfalls followed close behind her.

"You _will_ be turned. It is your destiny. You need only to realize your importance. At the Emperor's side, there is nothing you cannot accomplish."

"No!" she cried out in defiance. Her words echoed back at her, then faded into the blackness. "I'll never join you!" She knew this had to end. He was toying with her. Sooner or later, he would catch up. She was done running. No more games. She would face him in the light, on her terms.

She ran for the edge of the platform, toward the dimly lit room. As she sprinted for the light, it occurred to her that she was unarmed and would be unable to defend herself once she stepped out into the open. She paused a moment behind the platform's enormous staircase; light streaked through the steps in slanted beams, painting stripes on her face.

She took a deep breath and stepped into the light.

"I'm here!" she called out. "But you'll never get me to turn."

"Ah, but you will," said an old man's voice. She snapped her head up to this new voice and found herself gazing into the yellow eyes of the Emperor, who sat upon his throne, watching the drama unfolding before him. "It is the only way to be with your brother."

"Yes," said the deep voice, still lingering in the shadows. "He realized his potential. He has joined us."

"No," she said, turning to face the voice in the darkness. "Luke would never turn. You're lying!" she screamed.

The red blade ignited again, revealing the predator's location. It stepped into the light, out of the shadows. "Am I?" Luke said, a dark sneer parting his lips.

"Luke? No!" She dropped to her knees, bringing on a fresh wave of pain, but she ignored it. She dropped her head into her hands and began to sob.

Leia's eyes shot open. She jolted upright on her cell's hard cot. The nightmares were getting worse, and more real. Her eyes quickly adjusted to the darkness of her room. It took her a moment to remember where she was. _The Death Star._ She wondered what time it was. Not that it mattered. Time had had little meaning to her since she watched Luke kill Han. She couldn't believe it was the same man she'd known for four years, her newly discovered twin brother. He had turned down the path of the Dark Side.

He had told her something not long ago, a quote he had picked up sometime after Hoth. _How did it go?_ "If once you start down the Dark path, forever will it dominate your destiny." She had laughed at the odd syntax of that little bit of wisdom and thought it overly dramatic. She didn't know much about the Force, having found out only days ago that she herself had strong potential, but from what she had witnessed, the Dark Side _did_ seem stronger. If used correctly. She believed she had tapped into it two days ago when she tried to attack Luke and the Emperor. It felt natural and easy. Maybe she could use it to defeat the Emperor and get her brother back. Why was it so taboo to use? As long as she used it for the right reasons, she knew she could control it. Luke was driven to the Dark Side, she was certain. If she turned of her own accord, she could keep it from corrupting her as it did him.

Initially, she found the power growing inside of her frightening. However, looking back at moments in her life, she knew that she had felt it before, even _used_ it before. It was how she had "heard" Luke call to her on Bespin. It had always been subtle and unobtrusive. But two days ago, anger had brought it boiling uncontrollably to the surface. It scared her and awed her. Since then, she had been practicing her control of this power. While two days was hardly enough develop any sort of mastery, she had slowly increased her level of control, working out the finer points of the concentration and state of mind required to tap into her powers. She decided to begin with what had apparently come naturally, telekinesis. Across the room, she had placed a metal drinking cup on the floor five centimeters from the bulkhead. Her goal was to knock it over with a well-placed blow with the Force. Shallow dents in the bulkhead around the cup chronicled her pitiful progress thus far.

She left her cot and sat cross-legged on the cold floor, staring at the object. She saw her image reflected in the mirrored surface of the cup. The face that stared back at her seemed worn, haggard. As she looked closer, she noticed for the first time just how much she resembled her brother. She stared into her eyes, _his _eyes, and thought of him. Closing her eyes, all she could see was Luke crushing the life out of Han with his Force grip, Han's body slumped over in the chair, unmoving. She opened her eyes and tried to shake the painful images from her mind. _No_, she thought. _I'll need them if I'm to put up any kind of fight._

She closed her eyes once again in concentration. Envisioning the cup in front of her, she allowed her mind to conjure up the memory of Luke killing Han again. She let the anger fuel her. She thought of how she wanted to attack him, to kill him. How she hated him!

She felt as though she would explode with anger. There was a sudden release of pressure, accompanied by the distinctive sound of crumpling metal. She opened her eyes, blinking back tears, and gave a little gasp. The cup had been hit with such force that it had imbedded itself into the durasteel plate. While silently congratulating herself, she nearly fainted when hit by a massive wave of darkness that surrounded her and threatened to suffocate her. She laid flat against the hard metal deck plating, fighting back the urge to vomit, and let out an agonized sob.

"Luke," she whispered as tears flowed freely. He wasn't dead; she would have known for certain if that had happened. What she felt was something entirely different. He had _changed_ somehow. She could feel his power, wherever he was, and it was laced with such darkness that she knew he must be lost to her forever.

Luke and the Emperor had left just hours after she had witnessed Han's death. She didn't know where they had gone, but she guessed it was to officiate Luke as the Emperor's new apprentice. Shortly after having been brought aboard, she felt a similar wave wash over her and had known then that Vader was dead. Luke would surely take his place. Leia knew very little about the Sith Order. She knew their customs were full of ceremonies and rituals like a cult. She felt more than knew that Luke had just undergone one of those ceremonies. If she had sensed his new power from so far away with such little experience, she shuddered to think of what that meant. There was no way she could train herself to defeat that kind of power.

They would be returning soon; they still had plans for her, after all. She wouldn't go out without a fight. Taking her would not be easy.

"You should be very proud this day, Lord Arisin."

Arisin loved the sound of his new title. It gave him a sense of purpose and achievement he'd not felt since destroying the first Death Star over Yavin. Now he could accomplish anything. With the conclusion of the ceremony, he felt a new sense of belonging unlike any he had in the Rebellion. He now had the power to change the galaxy.

"Master?" he said suddenly, turning to face the Emperor, whose ghostly pale face stood out even in the darkened chamber. "Yesterday, after we arrived, I turned around and you had gone, vanished. And somehow you arrived at the chamber long before me. How did you manage that?"

"Through the Force," said the Emperor, giving the new Sith Lord a modest smile, "all things are possible. There will come a day when you will understand."

Arisin bowed his head in acceptance. "I look forward to that day, Master."

"Come, there is something I wish to show you," Sidious said and beckoned Arisin to follow. "There is still much this planet can teach you." He led his apprentice through the chamber entrance and out into the tunnels. However, once in the tunnel, he turned to the right, the opposite direction from which Arisin had originally come. It seemed that they were heading further up the mountain. Arisin followed his master without question, trusting that every action had reason. He guessed they would soon be at the top.

"Master," said Arisin, breaking the silence. His voice echoed lightly off the rough rock walls. "I want to thank you for this honor. I was nothing before. Nothing I did had any lasting affect on the galaxy. You have made me something truly great."

Palpatine nodded wisely. "Lord Arisin, the power in you now was always there. I put you on the path, showed you your potential. And I will teach you to perfect your power until there is nothing you cannot do. With you by my side, there will be nothing my Empire cannot accomplish."

He halted before what seemed to be a dead end in the dark tunnel. Arisin prepared to turn around when Palpatine casually flicked his wrist, causing the "dead end" to burst outwards, revealing blinding daylight on the other side.

The enormous boulder remained hovering motionless in the air until both men had stepped out onto a sizable ledge overlooking an amazing vista. A light breeze licked at their robes and dust swirled at the feet. Arisin felt a charge in the air, like an insect buzzing in his ear. He looked out toward the horizon. A vast valley lay sprawled out before them. The Sith city of the dead, the final resting place for thousands of Sith Masters. The Valley of the Sith was full of grand mausoleums, some carved out of the solid rock walls of the mountains surrounding the valley. Others were free-standing pyramidal buildings hundreds of meters high. Their shape was designed to focus the Dark Side. In the far distance, an avenue of enormous crumbling statues stood sentinel. Power radiated from everywhere; this was the heart of the planet's dark aura.

The oldest tombs dated back to pre-Republic times, some twenty-five thousand years before the Empire. The Valley was ripe with the Dark Side, giving strength to the new Sith Lord even at this distance.

"Each tomb holds the wisdom of generations long since turned to dust and ash," the Emperor said as he replaced the giant rock plug, breaking into Arisin's thoughts. "This will not be your last visit to this world." He pulled a small cylindrical device from somewhere within his robes and pressed a button. A green light flashed on the device. Arisin recognized it as a ship's beckon call.

"Master?" Arisin said, obviously puzzled. "Are we not staying?"

"No, Apprentice," Sidious said, shaking his head. "After the death blow which you dealt the Rebellion, there is much reconstruction to be done. I cannot afford to be away from the Capital any longer. Do not worry, Lord Arisin, you shall return in time. Soon. That I guarantee."

He looked off towards the west. The whine of the shuttle's engines could be heard echoing over the barren rocky landscape. Its tri-winged shape soared quickly over the terrain.

Aside from a grey stripe down the nose of the craft, the Emperor's shuttle was visually indistinguishable from any other _Lambda_-class Imperial shuttle in service. But nothing could be further from the truth. The ship had reinforced armor and enhanced shielding, capital-grade weaponry, and a rare Stygium crystal cloaking device. In all likelihood, it was the safest ship in the galaxy.

The Emperor turned to his pupil. "I have for you your first mission," he said. "You are to oversee the final phase of construction of a wonderful new device. It is truly like nothing else in the galaxy. It makes the Death Star look like a child's plaything."

"What is it, Master?" inquired Arisin.

"You shall see upon your arrival. I don't know the mechanics of it and cannot do it justice. It must be seen to be truly appreciated."

"I understand, Master," said Arisin, sounding somewhat disappointed. He wondered how something so allegedly powerful could have escaped the notice of Alliance Intelligence. "I look forward to it."

He thought back to when he had first encountered the Death Star. He had originally mistaken it for a small moon. And the second is many times larger than that. He could hardly imagine what could make them both look like a "child's plaything," as the Emperor had put it. He was excited to see it, whatever "it" was.

As the shuttle approached, its bent wings folded up, aligning themselves with the tall dorsal fin. The landing gear extended with a whine and the ship set down on a small plateau at the top of the mountain. The Emperor motioned for Arisin to follow and the pair climbed a well worn path up to the landing site. The path was narrow and steep with a sheer two hundred meter drop to the right. As they walked, their steps dislodged small rocks, which tumbled over the side into oblivion. Arisin glanced occasionally back over his shoulder at the Valley of the Sith. He wondered about the vast collection of knowledge stored there. He felt how powerful the entire valley was. He eagerly anticipated to his next visit.

Before long, they were soaring up through the atmosphere towards the inky black coldness of space. Arisin, once again strapped into the pilot's seat, entered their destination into the navicomputer and waited for the calculations to complete. The moment the shuttle was out of the planet's gravity well, he engaged the hyperdrive. Stars elongated and merged, forming the revolving, color-filled vortex that was hyperspace. He set the computer to issue an alert once it as time to revert back to real space then undid his restraints and headed back to the passenger cabin to speak with his master.

"We should reach Coruscant in about four hours, Master." Arisin said as he entered the cabin. They were heading back to the Death Star, which was currently en route to the Galactic Capital. He had been excited when the Emperor told him of their destination; Arisin had always wanted to see the city-planet, which embodied everything that Tatooine was not.

"Good," said the Emperor. "Come, sit. We have things to discuss."

Standing barefoot in her cell, Leia gazed proudly at what she had accomplished. The walls were pitted with little dents where she had used the Force to slam her boots around the small space. She had gotten the hang of basic telekinesis; now she would work on more precise control. For the last two hours, she had been attempting to pick up one boot and deposit it gently at her feet. Several large welts up and down her shins could testify just how successful she had been.

Raw power was easy to use, she'd found; she could fling the shoes around the room with enough force to seriously dint the walls. More meticulous control, however, was slightly more difficult. Her use of the Force was severely taxing, both mentally and physically, but regardless of the strain, she knew the importance of her training, as unorthodox as it may be. If she expected to put up any kind of fight at all, she would need to have as much control of her powers as possible.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating on the boot, picturing it with as much detail as she could. In her mind, she visualized the boot gliding across the room towards her. She stretched out with the Force, treating it as an extra appendage, gripping the boot as she would with her hand. Again, she pictured it floating obediently to her. She opened her eyes and saw the boot quiver slightly. Letting out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding, she allowed the Force to surround her and grab hold of the boot. She fought to maintain her hold as she held the boot in her invisible grasp.

It was no use. She needed to get mad. She began to think of Luke. She allowed herself to picture what he had done and what he had become. Keeping those angry thoughts in her mind, she found her strength again. Gritting her teeth, she focused on the boot, willing it to rise. It did so immediately. She pulled it towards her with all of her will, straining to keep control of it. It came slowly to her. She released her hold and the boot fell to the floor with a dull thud. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck and she was breathing hard. As pleased as she was, she knew that moving boots was a far cry from overpowering and destroying the Emperor. She may have to rethink her plans.

She wasn't sure how long she had been at it, hours at least, but a sudden wave of exhaustion told her it had been long enough. She managed to stumble over to her cot before collapsing. She closed her eyes and slipped instantly into a deep dreamless sleep.

Arisin sat directly opposite of the Emperor.

"I'd like to hear more of my father, Master." Arisin sounded like a child requesting a bedtime story. "I want to know where I'm from, to learn from his mistakes."

"You are very wise, my Apprentice. Few have the opportunity to learn to avoid the mistakes before they make them." The Emperor smiled inwardly. This one would serve him well. Only once before had he an apprentice so devoted to him. Lord Maul. Such a pity. Though for all the Zabrak's devotion, he was little more than a blunt tool. Darth Arisin was a finely tuned blade to be wielded with a surgeon's precision.

"The story of your father begins almost forty years ago," he began. "I was a senator of the Republic. I represented the Chommell sector, which included my home planet Naboo, a small world ruled by a child queen, your mother. She was a troublesome member of the Republic and far too wise for her age. It was all I could do to suppress her voice in the Senate, to keep her faith in me and me alone.

"Publicly I presented myself as intelligent but non-threatening; I showed very little real ambition beyond my place and was nearly invisible within the Senate. I befriended everyone and made very few enemies. Privately, I trained my first apprentice, Darth Maul, to be the extension of my will, to act where Senator Palpatine could not. Through him, I disposed of those few individuals who posed a threat to me and positioned my pieces on the greatest game board in history.

"Over a decade before the onset of the Clone Wars, I contacted the Trade Federation under the guise of Darth Sidious. The Neimoidians who led it were stupid and easily manipulated with threats and promises of wealth and power. Their greedy instincts forced them to cooperate, unable to pass up the prospect of such a shiny prize. I harnessed that greed and used it to my advantage. When the Supreme Chancellor instituted new taxation over the hyperspace routes used by the Trade Federation, I suggested to the Trade Federation viceroy that he blockade Naboo in protest. My intent was to force the queen to plead her case to the Senate, which would blame the Chancellor for the atrocities being committed as a result of his new tax.

"I did not, however, count on the Chancellor sending two Jedi as ambassadors to settle the dispute. Nor did I expect the queen to escape the planet and come to Coruscant to plead her case in person. The bumbling Neimoidians failed to eliminate the Jedi, who managed to make it down to the planet and whisk your mother to safety. Their ship was damaged, however, in their flight through the blockade and they were forced to land on the nearest non-Federation planet for repairs. That planet was Tatooine. It was there that your mother, along with the Jedi Qui-Gon Jinn and your former master Obi-Wan Kenobi met a nine year-old miracle boy, the only Human to successfully podrace, a genius with all things mechanical, and one who was allegedly conceived by the Force itself. He was Anakin Skywalker. I believe you own a golden protocol droid designated C-3PO. I know that droid well; he was built by your father when he was just a child and was later given to your mother once she began her term as senator of the Chommell sector.

"Although found to be immensely strong with the Force, the Jedi Council recognized the difficulties of training a child as old as he in their monastic and restrictive ways. Age is of the utmost importance to the Jedi. In order to brainwash them and strip them of their passion and ego, they must begin the training in infancy. They taught their students that anger, hatred, jealousy, and even love are emotions to be suppressed and forgotten. A child too old already knows these feelings and cannot easily rid themselves of them."

Arisin hung on every word. He had grown up never fully knowing who his father was. Everything he'd been told had been a lie. His uncle told him his father was a navigator on a spice freighter. Obi-Wan had said that he was a Jedi Knight who had been murdered by another Jedi named Vader. It had been less than a year now since he had learned the truth. His whole life it had been lie after lie and now, the very man he was brought up to hate was telling him everything he'd always longed to hear. The truth.

The Emperor shifted in his seat and continued.

"When I heard of the queen's escape, I immediately instructed my apprentice to hunt her down. He was to kill the Jedi and retrieve her. He was a very powerful man, my apprentice. Lord Maul. His fierce Zabrak exterior matched the twisted personality inside. He was a master martial artist and I was his only superior with the lightsaber. He was undefeatable. He had gone up against Jedi before on numerous occasions and had always emerged victorious. I had no doubt that this time would be any different.

"When he caught up to them, they had already repaired their ship and were in the process of fleeing Tatooine for the Capital. He engaged the Jedi but they escaped. It was at this time that Lord Maul sensed a strange presence in the Force. When he reported his failure, he also shared wit me what he had sensed. When I searched through the Force, I too felt the disruption.

"Lord Maul pursued the ship to Coruscant, where he met with me. It was too late to stop them from pleading their case directly to the Senate, but the situation actually turned out quite wonderfully. I was able to convince the queen to issue a Vote of No Confidence in the Chancellor. I was nominated for and later secured the position for myself."

Palpatine smiled as he remembered how well his machinations had played out, how ingenious his plan had been. The sweet irony of a Sith Lord being elected Chancellor of the Republic with full Jedi support was not lost to him.

"But the queen remained a problem," he continued. "I still required the Trade Federation for my plans, so I sent Lord Maul to Naboo to deal with the Jedi and force her to sign the treaty giving trade rights to the Trade Federation. Regrettably, Lord Maul was killed by young Kenobi, but not before dispatching the Jedi master Jinn. Upon Master Jinn's request, Kenobi took Anakin Skywalker as his Padawan. What a fool he was to think he could train him. However, it did bring the boy to Coruscant, where I could offer my guidance and my subtle influence. He grew to see me as a kindly uncle figure, a confidante, a mentor, and a friend. Unfortunately, a new problem arose; or rather an old one persisted: your mother.

"Ten years after having been taken by the Jedi, your father met up with the former queen. My new apprentice, a fallen Jedi Master called Dooku, had attempted to assassinate her before she could vote against a senate bill I required to be passed, the Military Creation Act, authorizing the creation of an army of the Republic to oppose the rising threat of the Separatist movement. I had put Dooku in charge of the Separatists, who had been spawned from the Trade Federation fiasco a decade before. It's amusing to think about, actually," he said. "I commanded both sides of the Clone Wars, playing the galaxy against itself. It was like a galaxy-spanning game of dejarik." He chuckled as though remembering a good joke. "The Senate eventually appointed me emergency powers to end the war.

"Your father had harbored feelings for your mother since he was a child, but it wasn't until he was assigned to protect her after her assassination attempt that she fell in love with him in return. After a harrowing confrontation with Dooku, which resulted in the loss of an arm, your father and she were secretly married, a fact I learned about through one of my contacts, the former security head for your mother whilst she was queen.

"Your mother was actually a critical element in your father turning his back on the Jedi. She didn't mean to, of course, but she made him realize how wrong the Jedi teachings were, that they had to love and marry in complete secrecy, that they couldn't have a public life together. He had toed the line of the Dark Side before, come dangerously close to crossing it on many occasions, but this, his utter defiance of the Jedi Code, this was his first step onto the road of power.

"I remember, he came into my office one day to inform me of a new victory in the war, and it was then that I felt he was ready to know the truth and make his choice. I told him that the true power of the Force lay in the Dark Side, that he would never wield the power he sought until he embraced it with everything he was. It was then that I revealed to him who I truly was. At first, he wished to kill me, as his Jedi instincts told him he should. He settled on reporting me to the Jedi Council, who saw fit to send agents to assassinate me under the pathetic guise of placing me under arrest. After a skirmish in my office and after I had killed three of the four assailants, Anakin entered. He was at first conflicted: help the Jedi kill me or join me and take advantage of my power? He chose wisely.

"At that moment, he became Darth Vader. Oh, he was _powerful_," the Emperor purred. "The most powerful being the Force had ever known. And he was _mine_. But, there was still a problem. A tiny bit of Light still shone in him. I knew from the beginning that he would be of incalculable worth to me. But I also knew that one day, he would betray me. There was one thing I did not know. I didn't know about _you_." He pointed at Arisin.

"Vader served me more or less faithfully for twenty years before I heard the name Skywalker again. When I learned the name of the young Rebel who destroyed the Death Star, I knew instantly what and who you were. So did your father. I wanted you eliminated; I don't deny it. You were a great threat, to the Empire and to my hold over your father. However, that shining bit of wretched Light in your father inspired him to suggest an alternative. One which I must admit has paid off nicely. He suggested we turn you. I knew that Vader had inadvertently given me the means with which to dispose of him before he was to betray me. It was my plan to have you kill him and take his place by my side. Granted, I expected a better fight from him." He shook his head in disappointment. "I was most impressed with the way you dealt with him. You show more promise than even your father did. Though not as powerful as Anakin was, you stand to accomplish twice as much."

He gave Arisin a very serious look. "I have now told you everything you need to know of your father. I don't expect we shall ever again speak of him. His time is over. Yours has begun. Develop your own legacy so great that his shall be forgotten. This is the new era of the Sith. A new chapter in the dark pages of time. The next generation. Make good of it." He closed his eyes in meditation. Arisin sat still, allowing everything to sink in completely.

He looked at the chronometer beside the cockpit door and saw that they would be arriving at Coruscant shortly. He headed back to the pilot seat to prepare for their arrival. He thought of what the Emperor had told him of his father earlier. About how he had grown up a slave. He could hardly imagine Vader as a slave. The more he considered it, though, the more he realized that Anakin had never really broken his chains. From Tatooine to the Jedi and even the Sith, he had been a slave to one master's will or another. He was even a slave to the machines that kept him alive. All his life, he served someone other than himself. Until his end. In a way, Arisin could respect him for taking control of his own destiny, albeit too late to do any good.

The starlines sprang back to pinpoints and a luminous sphere hung before him motionless in space and glittering with untold billions of lights. Of course he had heard stories of Coruscant growing up but he never dreamed he'd get to one day visit the planet-wide city.

Historians claim that the foundations of the city are over two hundred thousand years old and that by one hundred thousand years ago, the city had already encompassed the entire planet. Over the millennia, it continued to grow. When the Republic was founded, it was the natural choice for the Galactic Capital. Its surface is covered with construction kilometers thick, so thick that the deepest sub-basements still sat hundreds of meters above bedrock. Arisin had once heard that while the official census was just over a trillion, it is often estimated that if one counted unregistered inhabitants, the number would be much closer to _three_ trillion.

Every new building was built atop an older layer. Parts of Coruscant's lower levels hadn't seen natural light in more than ninety-thousand years. Though the planet's native plant and wildlife went extinct millennia of years ago, the planet had since evolved new and terrifying creatures that lurk in the nightmares of civilized society. Rumors have circulated for centuries about packs of ravenous blind canids, horrifying cannibalistic sub-humans, and rarest of all, enormous thousand-legged insects. Most denizens choose to remain ignorant of the lesser beings that live kilometers below their feet.

As the shuttle neared the glowing orb, the enormous Death Star made its way slowly over the horizon. Static briefly filled the speakers as a comm connection was made.

"Shuttle _Fire of Hate_; LS-179, please transmit clearance code red."

"Transmitting now," Arisin responded, punching in the proper code. He was still in awe of the battle station's sheer size. It was then that he remembered the new creation the Emperor had mentioned to him. Looking out at the massive bulk of the Death Star before him, he couldn't imagine anything more threatening. Even at just over half complete, it was still awe inspiring and incredibly intimidating.

"_Fire of Hate_, you are clear to land in shuttle bay SB-0793. We have tractor beam lock now." On cue, there was a slight shudder as the ship was pulled by the tractor's invisible grip. The Death Star soon filled the entire view screen, its smooth, curved surface flattening out and revealing a rough surface. They were being drawn to the equatorial trench. Arisin saw their shuttle bay light up as it prepared for their arrival. The opening grew large as they approached.

The shuttle was guided smoothly inside the bay. As the ship set down gently on the hangar floor, personnel flooded in. Six red clad royal guards filed in to meet the Emperor as technicians scrambled to tend to the ship. Arisin pressed the ramp release and unhooked his restraints.

"We're here, Master," he said, stepping into the passenger compartment. The ramp whined as it lowered, giving a dull thud as it hit the scuffed floor. He could hear the clattering of countless feet outside the ship.

"So we are," said the Emperor, rising to his feet. He turned to look at Arisin. "Shall we visit your sister before you leave on your mission?"

Arisin flipped up his hood and nodded. He hoped she would see the truth and listen to reason. He didn't want to kill her, but he was prepared to if it came to that. They just needed to convince her to see how things really were, how futile the Rebellion was, and how much more could be done with the power of the Dark Side at her fingertips.

The two stepped down the ramp together. Arisin walked proudly past the crimson shrouded guards. No longer were they intimidating bringers of death. Now, they were servants to be commanded. Instruments to be used. They would comply without question. Automatons constructed of flesh and blood. Never before had he felt such power. Not just from the Force. As the Emperor's new apprentice, he now had the entire Empire and all of its resources at his disposal. He was second in command of the most powerful government that had ever existed. And he liked it. It brought a smile to his face.

Catching the smile, the Emperor inquired. "What is it, Lord Arisin?"

"Power," he replied honestly. "It's all just dawning on me the power I have. Before, I was strong in the Force, but I had no real power in the Rebellion. I was a face. A well-known face, but just a face. Nothing more. They called me a hero but it was always Leia who was their leader. But now, I have the full might and weight of the Empire to back me. I command more than the Rebellion could have ever _dreamed_ of." He turned to the Emperor, who also smiled. "In this universe, you either have power," he remembered Endor's destruction, "or you're dead."

Palpatine nodded. "One without power is helpless in life. I'm glad I do not have a fool for a pupil." They made their way to the nearest turbolift and set off to see the princess.

They emerged from the lift twelve-hundred levels up and quickly made their way to a transport station. The Death Star had massive tunnels within its structure built specifically for fast transport from one side of the station to the other. Small automated speeders could carry as many as eight passengers from pole to pole in less than ten minutes. The princess was currently just over six hundred kilometers away as the mynock flies. They would be with her in minutes.

Leia awoke instantly and completely from her deep sleep. They were back. She could sense Luke. But he was different now, changed. She was certain it was he she sensed, but he wasn't the man she had known only days ago. His presence was dark and threatening and _different_. And _he_ was with him. The Emperor's darkness saturated everything around him like a strong odor. Even in his absence the "scent" lingered.

_It's now or never_, she told herself. She got to her feet and slipped on her boots before walking over to the sink to splash her face with cold water.

"This Death Star sure has nicer cells than the last one I was in," she said aloud with a nervous laugh. They were close now. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _Remember the boots, everything you've taught yourself._

There was a sound at the door. _Get ready!_ She prepared her mind for attack. The door slid open. She pushed out with as much power as she could muster, picturing the cup smashed flat against the wall. She saw a black shape hit the outside bulkhead with a sick thud and crumple unmoving to the floor. She began to congratulate herself when she heard a terrible sound. The Emperor was laughing.

"My, my, Your Highness. I see you have been busy." He stepped over the body of the guard and entered the cell. Luke trailed close behind.

"I may have practiced once or twice," she retorted, silently cursing herself for fouling up. She sent another wave of kinetic energy at the Emperor. The _real_ Emperor this time. Before she could register what had happened, she found herself flying through the air, smashing into the wall and tumbling awkwardly onto her cot.

"You will find, Princess, that my amusement turns to annoyance with astonishing ease. I could easily kill you where you lay. That, however, would be a shame. You've much potential and your death would be a significant loss. If you cooperate, I can help you develop that potential. I want you to work for me; serve the Empire. You will live better than you ever have, even as a princess in the Royal House of Organa on Alderaan. If you choose not to serve, then the alternative, I'm afraid, is somewhat less pleasant." Tilting his head slightly back, he spoke to his apprentice. "Perhaps _you_ can convince her."

Arisin stepped forward the room as Palpatine stepped aside. Leia, still on the floor, looked up at the hooded figure. She couldn't see his face, just the highlights of his nose and chin. He looked like Luke, but she knew he wasn't. He stepped up to her and offered a gloved hand to help her to her feet.

"Luke," she said, almost a whisper. "Luke, what have you done?"

Quickly the hand pulled back. She felt the waves of anger rolling off him. "Luke no longer exists." He reached up and lowered his hood. "I am Darth Arisin, Dark Lord of the Sith."

She stifled a scream with her hand and her eyes widened when she saw her brother's face. His skin was pale and sickly. But most startling of all, his eyes had changed. They were sick pools of sulfur flecked and rimmed with blood red, just like the Emperor's. A tear rolled down her cheek and she shook her head.

"No," she whispered. "No!" She fumbled to her feet. "You're not my brother. You're not the man I've known the last four years!"

"No," he conceded. "I'm so much _more_ now. And you could be, too. You've felt the power within you, the strength of the Dark Side. You know the truth. Only with the power it offers us can we hope to ever have peace in the galaxy." He stared at her with those eyes which so clearly frightened her. "Forget everything you've ever been taught about good and evil. They don't exist. Only power. Those who have it and those who seek it. Those who seek power create conflict with those who have it. That's what _we_ did, Leia.

"The galaxy is in turmoil because the Rebellion seeks the power the Empire holds. I know. I was a part of it. I know how the Rebellion works. And it's _wrong_. With your help, we can end this chaos, the pointless loss of life. Do you honestly want this war to last another twenty years? Or fifty? Or a hundred? Wars like these can rage for centuries and cost trillions of lives. History has shown us that again and again. Could you live with yourself knowing that you could have helped bring it to an end yet chose not to? I don't think you can live with the blood of so many on your hands. Search your feelings, Leia. You know I'm right. Join the Empire and end this war for good. Please," he added, silently pleading that she cooperated.

Palpatine felt the conflict within her. Now was the time to act.

"You would have the full resources of the Empire," the Emperor told her. "If you join us, you will have anything and everything you could need to stop the Rebellion. They are not your friends. They are terrorists. They kill innocent Imperial citizens, soldiers merely doing their duty to maintain order. It has stolen or destroyed convoys bringing food and medicine to Imperial worlds. Many people unaffiliated with the war have died as a result of the Rebellion. But you can stop it. I am granting you that power."

He walked towards her and spread his hands in a gesture of peace.

"You think I want death and destruction," he said. "Nothing could be further from the truth. A king who kills his subjects has no kingdom to rule over and thereby no power. I wish only for peace and order in the galaxy. Nothing more. And I will settle for nothing less. But know this, Your Highness. The killing _will_ continue for as long as you remain uncooperative." The unspoken threat loomed over the cell like a vapor.

He spoke to Arisin. "Come. She will not see reason. It seems more must die for her to understand." He looked back at Leia. "And I assure you, more _are_ going to die." He began to leave the cell when Leia called to him softly.

"Wait…"

For the next three hours, she gave the interrogator Rebel security codes, the identities of over a dozen undercover agents, attack strategies, and hidden bases. Everything she knew about the Rebel remnants. Even in its current state, almost completely wiped out, enough remained that given time, it would rebuild. It still had support, not a lot, but enough to still cause the Empire trouble and cost lives.

Arisin and the Emperor watched from another room.

"It is done then," said Palpatine triumphantly. "In weeks, my troops will have stamped out the last fires of rebellion. This is a day to be celebrated!" He put a hand on Arisin's shoulder. "I understand you have never been to Coruscant. Tomorrow, we shall go to the Imperial Palace and address the Empire, tell them the news of the Rebellion's downfall and introduce you to them. The Imperial Performing Arts House hosts the Corellian Opera from time to time if you desire entertainment. I've always enjoyed it. If you wish to explore the city some, there will be transport standing by at all times. For now, I suggest you rest. I shall get word to you when we are ready to address the people of the Empire."

Arisin gave a curt nod and headed off to his quarters for rest.

He woke nine hours later, more refreshed than he'd felt in years. He didn't realize how exhausted he'd been. The last few days had been enormously taxing, both physically and mentally.

He shrugged out of his robes, which had seen better days. Though they were new when he'd first worn them, the events of the past two days had taken their toll on the fabric. Various rips and stains were the result. He stepped into the room's 'fresher and had a hurried sonic bath. Feeling clean, he changed into some fresh clothes he had found in a locker beside his cot. They were reminiscent of a Jedi's inner robes but cut from black leather and some kind of light but surprisingly warm fabric. They fit him perfectly. A pair of knee-high leather boots and a black hooded cloak sat in the bottom of the locker. Once he'd pulled on the boots and cloak, slipped on his gloves, and fastened his lightsaber to his belt, he went on his way. He wished to explore the vast station before he and his master left for the planet's surface to address the Empire.

He stepped up to the large door and…nothing happened. He took a step back then forward again. Still nothing. He guessed the door had been programmed to open automatically for Vader and Vader alone. He would need to fix that. Using the Force, he pried the door open manually. With a satisfying hiss, the door gave way, revealing a busy hallway. Green and grey uniformed officers bustled past in both directions. Arisin chose a direction and stepped out into the traffic. He hadn't gone three steps before a voice called from behind.

"Lord Vader! Lord Vad—!" He stopped short as Arisin turned to face him. "You're not Vader."

"No. Lord Vader is dead," Arisin said brusquely.

"I wasn't informed of this," said the man, sounding very nervous and confused. "I'm going to have to call this in." He reached for his commlink.

"Do you doubt me?" asked Arisin, gripping the man's throat with the Force. The man's eyes widened and he vigorously shook his head. Arisin released him. "Good. Now what was it you wanted to tell Vader?"

"Well, you see, Lord—" he trailed off.

"Arisin," the young Sith supplied.

"Lord Arisin. My Lord, I don't know _what_ it is exactly. He merely told me that he wished to be informed the moment it arrived."

Puzzled, Arisin stepped towards the man. "Show me."

"Right away, my Lord. This way please."

He led the new Dark Lord down the corridor and to the right into a large room. It was full of shelves stacked floor to ceiling with hundreds of boxes of varying size, each neatly labeled and organized.

"Wait here, please." The man went off into the stacks.

Arisin let his eyes wander from shelf to shelf, row to row. It appeared to be a basic supply room. There were likely hundreds of thousands of identical rooms spread throughout the station. The supply clerk—he guessed that's who the man was—soon returned carrying a small box.

"Now, I'm not sure what this is," he said. "It's from a planet I'm not familiar with. '_Nay-boo_.' Lord Vader wanted to be told the minute I tracked it down."

_Naboo?_ Arisin wondered what this thing was. He was certain it had something to do with his mother. He took the box and examined it in his gloved hands. He found the release and opened it with a hiss of escaping gas. Inside was a small pendant, roughly two centimeters square. It looked to be carved from bone or some hard wood. Faint designs were inscribed into the surface. It was worn, but it looked like Huttese. His understanding of its written form was a little off at best, but it said something about "together" and "all time." He turned it over and saw distinct Tatooinian symbols. Vader had made this, or rather Anakin had. He was sure of it. Arisin took the pendant and hid it within his cloak.

"So what is it?"

"Something of little value," Arisin responded. "Pay it no mind." Arisin decided that perhaps it would be best to visit his sister in lieu of exploration. There was one last thing he thought he'd try.

Leia was back in her cell, sitting atop her cot with her knees clutched to her chest. Her eyes were swollen; she had been crying again. As terribly guilty as she had felt pouring out name after name of undercover operatives, safe house locations, and encryption codes, everything Luke and the Emperor had said to her made sense. More than that, she herself had thought some of those same thoughts on more than one occasion. But still it surprised and sickened her how readily and completely she had betrayed the Alliance, for which she had fought so hard for so long. Maybe she just realized the futility of continuing to fight. So many lives had been lost. She just wanted it to end.

She knew the information she gave up would lead to the deaths of dozens of agents. She knew it as she gave it to the interrogator. A part of her didn't care. If a few more had to be sacrificed to end the war, so be it. Even as guilty as she was feeling, she felt a great sense of relief. An enormous burden had been lifted from her shoulders. She felt free for the first time in over five years. And she was miserable for it.

There was a tone at her door. It opened and her brother stepped in.

"Luke," she said flatly, wiping at her eyes. She felt a wave of annoyance roll off of him at the mention of his name. _You'd better get used to it_, she thought. She refused to call him Lord—whatever his new name was.

"Leia." His physical appearance still disturbed her. His eyes, which had been so kind, so innocent, now glared out, full of malice and anger. "I have something for you." He reached into a hidden pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was a pendant no bigger than a credit chip strung on a simple leather cord. Strange writing or symbols were etched into its surface.

"What is it?" she asked, her curiosity getting the better of her. He put the pendant in her hand.

"A gift," he told her. "From our father to our mother. I thought you should have it." He closed her hand around it. "I want to try something. I want you to concentrate on it," he instructed. "Feel it in the Force and clear away all other distractions."

She closed her eyes and did as she was told. She sensed Luke focus his attention likewise on the tiny pendant. A few moments passed. Nothing was happening. She was opening her mouth to speak when a sound cut her off.

_"…cold," _said a little boy's voice.

_"You come from a warm planet. A little too warm for my taste. Space is cold." _This voice was from a girl, a teenager, no older.

At once Leia knew who it was.

_"I made this for you. I carved it out of a japor snippet,"_ said the little boy.

_"Thank you, Ani. It's beautiful."_ There was a maturity in her voice that reminded Leia very much if herself as a teen.

Leia snapped back to reality. Luke was breathing hard.

"I wasn't sure that would work," he said, a pleased look plastered on his face. "Do you know what that was?"

"Yes. It was our mother. And Vader," she said softly.

Luke nodded. "Yes," he said. "From what I know, I think he was only nine or ten years old when he made this for her." He held the pendant up by its strap, studying it in the light. "There are some things you should know about Anakin Skywalker," he said at last. For the next two hours, he told her everything he had learned about their father. When he'd finished, Leia sat awestruck. She could hardly believe the Darth Vader she knew had grown up a slave. In an odd way, she had gained a new respect for him. It didn't excuse him from his atrocities, but it gave her a deeper understanding of how and why he became what he was. There was something very tragic in his story. Before she just hated the monster, but now she pitied the man.

Luke's tale also granted her better understanding of the Jedi. Her father had always told her of them, placing them atop a shining pillar of respect almost to the point of worship. He spoke of them as if they could do no wrong. As a senator in the waning days of the Old Republic, he dealt with them on an almost daily basis. He always made them sound so…noble. He failed to mention their darker side.

The Jedi that Luke described were arrogant beyond words. To them, there was no higher authority than the Force. They allowed it to guide their every action, to rule over every aspect of their lives. Their dogma didn't allow the most basic emotions, emotions which make people the individuals they are. They forbade attachment of any kind, from contact with family to owning personal possessions. They weren't allowed to marry or even to fall in love. What was once respect for the Order turned almost instantly to repulsion.

What gave them the right to demand such a high price from their members, who were far too young when inducted to have any personal say in the matter? The Jedi were not the pure, noble sect they wanted the galaxy to believe they were. Their strict hands-off approach to justice meant that thousands of atrocities went unpunished; thousands of conflicts were allowed to play out. The Jedi refused to intervene except in the rarest of circumstances, instead preferring to let the Sabacc cards fall where they may and simply deem it the "will of the Force." They lived shut up in their grand temple, able but unwilling to help the galaxy to the full extent of their powers. Their fate was well deserved, in her opinion. At least the Sith are true. They embrace their emotions instead of suppressing them. They act instead of _re_act. They don't pretend to be something they aren't.

Leia looked into her brother's eyes and for the first time since his change, wasn't frightened. "I've heard enough about the Jedi," she said softly. "What can you tell me about the Sith? I've always been told the Jedi stopped them from practically destroying the galaxy but now I'm not sure what to believe."

"I don't have time now to tell you the whole story now, Leia, but know this: The Jedi slaughtered—yes, that's a good word to use—they _slaughtered_ the Sith to near extinction for thousands of years because of a philosophical difference in how they view the Force. The Jedi feared what they didn't understand." He stood up. He'd been sitting on that hard cot for hours. "I have to go now, but I'll see you soon." He walked across the cell and opened the door. He turned to face her again.

"You did the right thing, Leia. I'll do what I can to secure you better accommodations. As long as you're on our side, I don't think the Emperor will have a problem making you more comfortable. Until then, be well, Leia." He stepped into the hall and was gone. The last thing she saw as the door slammed shut was Luke's cloak whipping around the doorframe behind him.

She sat thinking for a long time. Thinking about everything she'd just heard. It was as if her world had been flipped upside down. Everything she thought she'd been fighting for was corrupt. Nothing was as it seemed. After a lot of thought, Leia made a decision, one that would change her life forever.

Arisin was making his way back to his quarters, his mission to explore the station forgotten after his talk with his sister. She had seemed much more receptive to the truth than he had expected. This pleased him. It showed that she was able to let go of what she believed for so long when confronted with damning information. He was going to meditate in an attempt to see her possible future with the Empire.

He was nearing his chambers when something seemed to be beeping on his person. He searched his cloak and found a small comm device in one of the inner pockets. A red light was blinking with each beep. He pressed the receiver button.

"_Lord Arisin_," his master's voice came in gravelly over the comm.

"Yes, Master?" he answered.

"_It is time to address the Empire_," the Emperor croaked. "_We shall leave for the planet in twenty minutes. Be at my shuttle in ten_."

"Yes, Master. There are developments concerning Leia," he reported eagerly. "She seems more willing to hear us out. I believe she'll join us soon. She's strong willed, but she knows what's right when it's placed in front of her."

"_Let us hope she does, my friend. Let us hope she does_." The connection broke.

From where he was, it would take at least five minutes to reach the shuttle bay. He could have the pre-flight check finished by the time the Emperor arrived and save them ten minutes.

When he entered the shuttle bay, it was alive with activity. Dozens of technicians were scrambling around servicing various shuttles and pieces of equipment. One shuttle seemed to be getting a complete overhaul; it was suspended on long chains from the high ceiling and one wing was being removed. A few heads turned to watch him as he made his way to the Emperor's shuttle. The word of Vader's death had likely spread around the whole station by now, along with the identity of his replacement. He could hear a few hushed comments.

As he approached the shuttle, two things stood out. For one, the Emperor was already aboard; he could hear his master's voice leaking down the gangplank from inside the passenger cabin and the Emperor's presence in the Force was unmistakable. Second, a flight crew was already in the cockpit performing the pre-flight check. He stepped past the two red-clad guards at the base of the lowered ramp and boarded the shuttle.

"I'm not flying us?" he asked as he moved up beside his master.

"No, Lord Arisin. This time you are just a passenger. This mission is pure politics. You'll learn the protocol soon enough." He gestured for his apprentice to sit beside him.

"So where exactly are we going, Master?" Arisin asked as he sat.

"To the Imperial Palace. I have a few details to smooth out. Then, we go to the Senate to address the Empire via Holonet. I shall inform the people of the Rebellion's defeat and of Lord Vader's death. I will then introduce you. Doubtless there will be few who will be sad to hear of your father's demise. The entire galaxy will be watching," he warned, "so you will be expected to say something. It needn't be long. We will then head to the Entertainment District to take in a show. You will leave for your mission tomorrow morning at 0900. I can now tell you that your mission will take you to the Maw." He stopped short as the pilot's voice came in loud over the speakers.

_"I'm raising the boarding ramp, Your Majesty. We'll be lifting off in approximately one minute. We should arrive at the Imperial Palace in ten minutes' time."_ As the pilot's voice broke off, the repulsor coils kicked in with a soft whine. The cabin began to vibrate lightly. As the ship rose off the hangar floor, Arisin saw the technicians evacuating the area. Once it was clear, the shuttle eased its way out the opening and into space.

Eager to hear more, Arisin pressed his master for more. "The Maw?" he asked. "The construction site is close to the cluster?"

"Hidden deep within the Maw is Maw Installation, a secret weapons development facility," the Emperor explained as the shuttle descended into Coruscant's atmosphere with a slight jostle. "Protected by the black hole cluster, it has remained secret for decades. It is where the first Death Star was conceived. It is there that you will find our new…device." The shuttle blasted toward the sparkling planet, carrying the two people who would usher in a new era for the galaxy.


	4. Imperial Roots

**Chapter 4: Imperial Roots**

Arisin had never enjoyed flying as a passenger. He much preferred being in the pilot's seat with yoke in hand. There, he had complete control over everything. Luckily, this would be a very short flight.

He looked forward to seeing the Imperial Palace. It was one of the tallest buildings in the galaxy; at three kilometers from base to spire, it dwarfed everything around it and stood higher than any structure on the planet. Built many millennia before the formation of the Empire, it had always been an icon in the Old Republic that represented absolute power. It was only fitting that Palpatine continue the tradition and take it as his seat of power. During his rule as Emperor, however, many modifications have been added to the grandiose structure. Its surface was redesigned to hide dozens of capital grade turbolaser batteries. Both the Emperor's personal office and throne room were encased in a layer of cortosis, the only known element able to guard against the energy of a lightsaber's blade.

The palace had more than a dozen secret passages and turbolifts. Even a hidden shuttle bay housed a heavily armored shuttle always on standby for a quick escape whenever the Emperor was on planet.

Its best defense by far was its independent deflector shield. The generators had been installed over one hundred meters into the planet's bedrock, making them impervious to any sort of aerial attack. The shield itself was at least as strong as Coruscant's planetary shield. It was rumored, though never tested, that the shield was strong enough to withstand the full impact of an _Imperial_-class Star Destroyer and still maintain as much as twenty-five percent shield integrity. The Emperor's throne room had an additional shield generator installed within the palace itself that protected the entire wing.

The shuttle soared gracefully the planet's atmosphere; the ship was flanked by a flight of TIE Interceptors that had formed up on them shortly after departing the Death Star. Arisin glanced out one of the starboard windows and saw clouds streaming past. Off in the distance he glimpsed some of the taller buildings poking through the solid blanket of white. It wouldn't be long now before they reached the palace. He looked forward to finally seeing Coruscant's never-ending skyline.

At last, the shuttle dropped below the clouds and the unending expanse of duracrete and transparisteel was revealed. Billions of ships swarmed the planet like insects, flying in neatly organized grids of flight lanes. Hundreds of levels stretched from the top of the highest skyscrapers to the lowest duracrete crevasse. Perpetual streams of speeders and transports wove between, around, and even through the gigantic structures.

He saw the palace far off in the distance and nearing by the second. He could just imagine the staff frantically preparing for their Emperor's arrival. It truly dominated the landscape. A massive pyramidal structure, it was really an artificial mountain that loomed menacingly over everything for hundreds of kilometers.

As a boy, Lord Arisin used to have a hard time believing that the capital world could be the home of over one trillion beings. It was beyond anything he could comprehend growing up on a world like Tatooine, which sat about as far from Coruscant as you could get while still remaining in Known Space. But looking over the city-planet as he was now, seeing what appeared to be one continuous structure, one layer kilometers thick encasing the entire surface like a glittering durasteel shell, he believed it. The scale was staggering. There were more inhabitants on this single planet than there were stars in the galaxy, in _five_ galaxies. And every day, millions more immigrated to this shining jewel from other worlds too numerous to count.

Leia had of course been to Coruscant many times in her youth. Even before she served in the Imperial Senate, she traveled with her father, Bail Organa, during _his_ service in the Senate. He sometimes forgot that about her upbringing, about her life before the Rebellion, and how radically different it had been from his own. She grew up as a princess on a world well known for its elegance and beauty. It made him angry to think that she had been given a life with no worries, lacking nothing, while he had been forced into the harsh life of moisture farming on a planet notorious for its hatred of anything living.

He tightened his hands into fists and clenched his jaw in anger. For that, he hated Obi-Wan, who had sentenced him to that hellish backwater world as an infant. The old man had watched over him as he grew, could see how he struggled and yearned to escape the life his uncle wanted for him. Obi-Wan could have come to him at any time, told him of the great potential within him, begun his training if only to show the boy that his suffering would one day come to an end. But Kenobi was content to allow him to live in misery for nineteen years. In fact, Arisin was convinced now that had Artoo not escaped that night and prompted him to be in Obi-Wan's section of the Dune Sea, the old man would have simply let him live and die never knowing the truth about his father or the Force or his twin sister.

He pushed away those bitter thoughts, though, and instead decided to enjoy the view this flight afforded him. The shuttle was descending rapidly, heading straight for a large opening in the north face of the palace.

Palpatine, too, looked out across the city, as he always did when he soared above it, be it from a shuttle viewport or from his throne room window. All that stretched from horizon to horizon belonged to him. He had worked his way up from a lowly senate aide to ruler of a galaxy. Coruscant was the largest and most precious gem in his glittering crown of a million worlds. It was times like this, those rare times his mind was at ease, that he recalled in detail his first visit to the planet.

It had been over seventy years ago now, barely in his teens, but even then he knew power when he saw it. His family was from Naboo, simple farmers. Nothing more. When a grain shipment sold for more than expected one season, his father decided to treat the family to a vacation. The decision was to visit Coruscant. His parents felt it would be a valuable learning experience for their only child. They could never have been more right. This was the first time the boy had gotten a taste of politics.

While touring the Senate District, the Palpatines took a guided tour of the Imperial Palace, at the time called the Palace of the Republic. As it happened, the tour coincided with the inaugural address of the newly elected Supreme Chancellor. The family stopped to witness the event, young Palpatine hanging on the man's every word. It was at that moment that he vowed to never live his life as a farmer. He knew even then that he was above that sort of common life. He would be a leader. More than that, he would be a _ruler_. He looked around at the bustling city sprawled out before him as far as he could see and knew that somehow, someday, it would all be his…

And so it was. He rarely allowed himself journeys into his past. It was over. As far as he was concerned, all that mattered was the future. However, certain moments in his personal history stuck out more prominently in his mind than others and he did enjoy reliving them. All were key moments in his life; most related in some way to his rise to power.

One of the aspects of power he most enjoyed was its ability to control vast numbers of beings. One man ruling millions of billions. Though he was astronomically outnumbered and perhaps, should they all work in concert, could easily be overthrown, he knew the people wouldn't dare. For if they did, they would be directionless, lost to govern themselves. And he discovered early on that people _like_ being told what to do. It makes them feel secure in their lives. For this reason, Palpatine knew that another rebellion was very unlikely, such is the power he held over his Empire.

As they approached the palace, the shuttle prepared for landing. Its dorsal wings folded up and the landing gear lowered with a faint whine. It slowly entered the large hangar and set down gently. The ship's systems powered down and the boarding ramp lowered. Cool air rushed into the cabin, caressing Arisin's cheeks. He took a deep breath. It smelled heavily filtered, artificial. It was likely close to the truth. He imagined that the palace had its own independent air supply that was constantly being filtered for any kind of contagion. The hangar added its own scents to the air. He detected a slight tinge of hyperdrive coolant and mechanical lubricant to the otherwise sterile air.

He stood waiting for his master to join him at the lowered gangplank. He was eager to step foot on the planet.

"Go, Lord Arisin. I know you are anxious to see the city," the Emperor said, motioning to the hangar outside.

Allowing himself a moment of preparation, he tentatively took his first steps down the ramp and onto the hangar floor. He had done it; he had made it to the Capital at last.

The hangar itself was fairly standard, the same as one would see on any Star Destroyer or space station from here to the Outer Rim. However, there was one key difference: the hangar door was open to the outside. No protective energy shield was needed. He stepped up to the large opening and just looked out, savoring the view.

Though he'd seen it from the air, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw from the surface. The sheer magnitude of everything awed him beyond words. At any given time, billions of being were out and about, active in some way. He just stood there, staring, soaking it all in. The Force seemed to vibrate with such a dense concentration of life.

He spun round to look for his master, who was speaking with a man in very ornate robes and a tall hat. The man bowed so deeply that Arisin was certain the headdress would tumble off and then he walked away. The Emperor moved over to Arisin. "I sense a question burning within you, Apprentice. What is it?"

"My father had holdings here on Coruscant, didn't he?" asked Arisin. "Buildings and finances?" It had been said that if all of Darth Vader's assets had been converted into one-credit chips, the mound would be so large that it would take a hundred Human lifetimes of digging to reach the bottom.

"Lord Vader owned a great deal, and on many different worlds," Palpatine confirmed. "Everything that was his is now yours, of course. I shall see to it that you get all access codes immediately. However, I'm afraid that I have some important business to attend to before we address the Empire. You are free to move about the palace, if you wish. I shall contact you when it is our time to depart for the Senate."

Arisin bowed his head in compliance and turned back to the amazing view. He imagined what it would be like to possess it all, everything before him and everything further out to the edge of the galaxy. He decided after a long while to tour the palace as his master had suggested. As he made his way across the hangar floor, work crews swarmed the Emperor's shuttle. They cleaned, tuned, and maintained. It reminded him of hive insects serving their queen. _Drones_, he thought.

He stepped through a doorway and into the palace proper. He was impressed with what he saw. Just the corridor itself was a marvel. Huge tapestries covered the walls, which stretched up fifteen meters to the ceiling. Each tapestry represented a world in the Empire. The entire Empire was represented in this way throughout the palace. That meant that close to two million of these enormous tapestries adorned the walls of the mega structure. Truly a staggering thought.

The walls themselves were made of a beautiful stone; it was polished black with tiny white flecks throughout. It gave the impression of deep space. The stone which made up the floor was inversely colored. The contrast was pleasing to the eye, and he wondered absently if the entire palace was so richly furnished.

He soon found himself completely lost. Each hallway was identical to every other, each lined with the most wondrous potted plants whose leaves shimmered with rainbow flashes across their surface with every sharp tap of his heel on the polished floor. He deduced that he was somewhere in the interior of the colossal building by the complete lack of windows he found, which he was certain would be very prominent in the outer sections as he had espied the surface of the palace to be aglitter with millions of transparisteel window panes upon their approach from the air. Deciding to simply go up, he found a turbolift and hit the button for its highest reach. He imagined the view would be spectacular from the upper stories. He stepped out of the lift several seconds later onto what seemed to be an observation deck of some kind. Half a dozen people stood gazing out the enormous transparisteel walls in awe at the city that lay before them. He could definitely get used to this.

"Your Majesty, congratulations are in order!" The Emperor's personal aide rushed into the grand office and bowed deeply, almost loosing his large pointed headdress onto the lavish crimson carpet. Sate Pestage had been Palpatine's aide since before he took the office of Supreme Chancellor during the last decade of the Republic, serving him even during his earliest days in the Senate. He was among the few people Palpatine truly trusted. "News of the Rebellion's defeat has already begun to spread."

"It was only a matter of time," Palpatine noted confidently. The pair walked across the breadth of the office while they spoke. "Their fire was bright, but bright fires burn hot and die fast. It was not I, however, who delivered the final blow. The credit for that must go to my apprentice."

"Oh, yes," said Pestage somewhat coldly, looking around the room. His dislike of Vader was far from secret. "Where _is_ Lord Vader, anyhow? I regret that I was forced to leave the Death Star so soon before he ended the war."

The Emperor chuckled, forgetting the aide had left just hours before the throne room battle. "No, not Vader," he corrected. "His son."

Pestage gave the Emperor a quizzical look. "His son? The Rebel boy who destroyed the first Death Star? _Skywalker_ destroyed the Rebellion?"

The Emperor nodded. "And he did so marvelously."

"I must say, Your Majesty, I am rather impressed that you were able to convince him to turn his back on his friends. He always seemed so…incorruptible to his cause. How did Lord Vader die, if you don't mind my asking?" Pestage inquired, barely hiding his morbid desire to know all the gritty details. "I assume he _did_ die," he added, "and you took Skywalker as his replacement."

The Emperor reached his desk. "Certainly, my friend." He sat on his throne and motioned for Pestage to sit in one of the chairs positioned around the giant desk. "Vader died at the hand of his son."

The gaunt old man shook his head in disbelief. "Lord Vader was bested in battle?" he breathed. "But Skywalker is just a _child_! I thought Vader was a master warrior. I've witnessed his training exercises on more than one occasion and his record of confirmed Jedi kills is impressive, to say the least." So much had happened since he'd left the Death Star hanging above Endor.

"Do not underestimate the Dark Side," the Emperor said simply. "Vader was a great warrior, but Skywalker had much anger in him. Vader was greatly weakened by his personal feelings for his son. And the boy fought superbly. I was _immensely_ impressed by his performance."

Pestage hung on his master's every word. "So how was it that he managed to defeat the Rebellion? If he was fighting Lord Vader, that is. And wasn't a rather large Rebel fleet expected to arrive?"

"Ah," said the Emperor, raising a gnarled finger. "At this point in the battle, Lord Vader lay wounded and dying on the floor. The Rebel fleet came out of hyperspace around the moon just as I had predicted. It was at that point that I gave the order to jump to a safe distance. On Skywalker's command, the Death Star fired and obliterated the moon and with it, the orbiting Rebel fleet." He was still quite pleased with how well his plan had worked.

Pestage sat in his seat smiling broadly. "Marvelous, Your Majesty!" he exclaimed. "You have facilitated the end to the second civil war in as many decades. No doubt the public will wish this day remembered as a galactic holiday."

"Of course," said Palpatine, smiling. "It will be a day long remembered. And the day gets even better, my friend."

"Oh?" Pestage was indeed curious once more. He leaned forward with anticipation.

"Princess Leia Organa herself gave us the information we now have on the whereabouts of the remaining Rebel forces," the Emperor related gleefully. "She hasn't yet fully transitioned to the Dark Side, but soon, very soon, she will come around. I hope to train her as a Hand."

"She is Force-sensitive?" Pestage inquired, puzzled. He was one of the few people in the galaxy who knew of Palpatine's mastery of the Force. As far as most people were concerned, only Lord Vader had such powers.

"Oh, yes," said the Emperor, nodding seriously. "She is twin sister to Skywalker and therefore daughter of Lord Vader. Though perhaps not as powerful as her father or brother, her potential is great. Greater, I believe, than even Mara Jade."

"Oh, Miss Jade is one of your strongest, is she not?" asked Pestage.

"_The_ strongest," Palpatine corrected sharply. "While her strength in the Force is unremarkable, she is cunning and intelligent above all the rest. What she lacks in power, she makes up for in skill. But the princess," he said with a grin. "She has power _and_ intellect. With the proper training, she will be very useful indeed."

Pestage stood from his chair. "Well, Your Majesty, that's wonderful news. Simply wonderful! I very much look forward to seeing what she can accomplish. I'm afraid I've some work to attend to, however. It seems the Hutts wish to renegotiate their border again. Something about a planet just outside Hutt space that they wish to mine."

The Hutts. Palpatine had never liked them; they were bloated and smelly and altogether uncouth. Nevertheless, his personal feelings for the species aside, he had a good measure of respect for them. They were ruthless and intelligent and formidable allies when properly compensated. "Send a survey team to the planet first," he commanded. "If it is of any value to the Empire, reject the Hutts' request." He got an idea. "Or better yet, reject their request to expand their border but tell them that we will allow them to mine the planet. Only tell them they may only hire Imperial miners. And tax whatever it is they're mining at the usual rates." Running a government was much like running a large corporation. It was all about money. "But add a foreign usage fee," he added. That would supply the Empire with a small but steady credit flow for as long as the mines are active.

"As Your Majesty commands," Pestage said. "I shall tell Lord Malloc the Hutt immediately. What if he should refuse your offer?" The old man looked suddenly worried.

"Kill him," said the Emperor simply. "Inform the Hutts that he was assassinated by competitors and that the Empire will gladly offer its services protecting the project leaders, for a price, of course."

"You have a brilliantly devious mind, Your Majesty," Pestage said with a smirk. He was still chuckling softly as he left the office.

Palpatine remembered his first encounter with the corpulent creatures. Surprisingly, it was a pleasant memory, contrary to his current feelings for the species.

He was twenty years old and at University on Coruscant. It was the start of his fourth year and he was taking a very prestigious political science class. It was the first day and everyone had taken their seats; Palpatine sat in the back as usual. He had an inkling that he might be somewhat Force-sensitive and he found that he could oftentimes get a read on people. He could feel his competition and take measures to ensure his success over theirs.

It was during his analysis of the class that the professor entered the classroom. To everyone's great surprise, a very large and very ancient Hutt slithered up to the podium and began taking roll. What surprised them even further was the fact that he spoke near perfect Basic. While the Hutts were physically capable of speaking the language most, even those who knew it, refused. As a result of this, and the fact that the Hutts have their tiny hands in almost every enterprise in the galaxy, Huttese is the second most spoken language across the galactic plane.

"Good afternoon, class," the old Hutt boomed. "I am Professor Kalok. In this class, you will learn the history—and the _essentials—_of galactic politics from the Ruusan Reformation, which I happen to have witnessed first hand as a Huttling, through this sitting Supreme Chancellor. Who better than a Hutt to teach the finer nuances of politics?" He laughed at his own joke, a warm, deep sound. At first, the class was confused, still unsure whether this was all a joke. It soon became apparent that it was not.

Professor Kalok pressed a button on his podium with a stubby finger. "The syllabus should come up on your desk screens momentarily," he said, his deep rumbling voice reverberating around the classroom.

Just as he had said, the syllabus soon appeared on Palpatine's desk monitor. He skimmed over the document. He was surprised to find that very little class time would actually be spent in the class itself. According to the schedule, they would sit in during several meetings of the Senate, visit some of the top-ranking senators and listen to them speak, and even meet with the Supreme Chancellor at the end of the semester!

As the students read silently, the Hutt professor made his way slowly up and down each extra-wide aisle, learning everyone's faces, datapad in hand. He stopped when he came to Palpatine. "You," he said to the youth as softly as his deep timbre would allow. "I noticed you the moment I entered the room. You were the only student who did not look horrified at the prospect of having a Hutt professor."

"Well, sir, to be perfectly honest, I _was_ rather surprised." Palpatine gazed directly into the enormous magenta eyes. Light green slime oozed from the corners of the professor's mouth. His skin looked tough, like oil-coated greenish brown leather.

"You hid it very well, young—," he checked the roster in his hand and matched the image with the student, "—Palpatine. Have you considered actually going into politics when you're older? It is a great skill for a politician to mask their true feelings about a subject. Their true face, if you will."

"Actually, sir, I _have_ thought about it," the young Palpatine had said. "Though I attribute it to delusions of grandeur, I've often had hopes of someday becoming Supreme Chancellor."

"Hohoho!" The old Hutt chuckled deeply. Palpatine didn't sense this was in any way condescending, however. "Young man," said Kalok, "if that is your dream, let no one take it from you."

Palpatine sat on his throne, fondly remembering that class. He took the professor's words to heart that day. He never once lost sight of his dream. Even at that young age, he had aspirations of power, though, still new to the civilized galaxy, he hadn't yet dreamt of _ultimate_ power. That was soon to change.

The first week of class was boring; it consisted of learning dozens of terms used in politics, most of which were in a dead language not spoken since the formation of the Republic. Regardless, Palpatine found them easy enough and was soon eager to begin experiencing the political world first-hand.

He enjoyed seeing his fellow students struggling where he himself excelled. He quickly developed a good relationship with Professor Kalok. The enormous teacher was greatly impressed with Palpatine's quick advancement beyond the rest of the class. One day after class, he approached the young man.

"Next semester, I suggest you take a more difficult class. Professor Grej'akk'serrit has a class on political strategy. I believe you would find it most helpful on your quest for office someday." He put a small, plump hand on Palpatine's shoulder. "I believe you will be someone, one day."

"Thank you, sir. That means a lot coming from you. Professor Grej'akk— " the young man struggled to remember the odd name.

"Grej'akk'serrit. He's on level four-eighteen of this building," said the Hutt. "I'll speak to him today and recommend you to him for his class next semester."

"Thank you, sir," said Palpatine again. "I won't forget this, sir." And he didn't. Many years later, when he'd succeeded Finis Valorum as Supreme Chancellor, he'd tracked down the aging professor and paid him a small fortune as a personal thank you. Were it not for the chain of events set into motion by Professor Kalok the Hutt, Palpatine doubted he would be sitting on his throne today.

Snapping back to the present, Palpatine called in his Minister of War, Grand Moff Raab.

The large double doors of Palpatine's office slid open and an older man with graying hair and a crisply pressed uniform entered, passing the two menacing royal guards standing just outside the room. "Yes, Your Majesty?"

"Has the information we have received from the Rebel interrogations been transferred here from the Death Star's databanks?"

"Just moments ago, my Lord," the Moff confirmed.

"Good." He accessed them on his desk terminal. "Sit. I'm sending the information to your datapad."

Moff Raab took his datapad from his breast pocket and watched as the transmission completed. He then pulled up the information and looked over it.

"I have sufficient enough proof that all of this information is indeed accurate," the Emperor said. "It consists of planets, names, and schedules, as you can see. We have even obtained Rebel passwords for those masquerading as officers.

"I'm giving you the command of the Death Star and the entire Endor fleet, with the exception of the _Executor_. You will send two Star Destroyers to each of the Rebel planets. Demand that the Rebels turn themselves in or the planet will be bombarded from orbit and any ship leaving the surface will be destroyed. Those who do not reveal themselves voluntarily will likely be turned in by those harboring them."

"What of the Death Star, Your Highness?" asked Raab.

"You will take it to the Rebel base."

"And destroy it, Highness?"

"In time, yes," Palpatine said.

Raab looked at his datapad, scanning the list of planets for the alleged Rebel base. He found it. "Naboo? I've never heard of that world."

The Emperor gave the Moff an icy look. "There's no reason you should have," he said coldly. "And it makes no difference. It is home to the Rebel base. It will be destroyed."

Arisin kept his hood up but turned his head to the side, allowing the cool breeze to caress his face. The distant sun was quickly falling below the horizon. It was never truly night on Coruscant. Light poured from billions of windows, buildings were illuminated by huge spotlights and passing transports. Even now, the lights were blazing.

He looked down into the artificial canyons created by the monster structures. An ominous orange glow shone brightly from far below. It resembled an infinitely-forked river of magma, winding its way between and around buildings impossibly tall. Hundreds of levels separated him from the artificial inferno. He was still awed at the size and scale of the city around him.

As the sun set, the air cooled and the gentle breeze became a persistent biting wind. It tore at his robes and threatened to rip the hood from his head. He tightened his sash and lowered his head in submission against the wind. Most of the other observers had already left, unbeknownst to him. He was drawn to the beauty of the sprawling city. When he glanced around, he found himself alone, with the exception of a young man who stood out of the wind by the door.

The man glanced around the area and then at Arisin, who had begun walking toward the open doorway. "Gimme all your money!" he called out, simultaneously producing a very nasty, very lethal-looking vibroblade from his clothing. He jabbed the softly humming blade in Arisin's direction. "C'mon! You heard me, I want everything of value you got! _Now_!"

Arisin looked calmly at the young man, studying him top to bottom. The man looked about as old as Arisin had been when he'd first met up with Obi-Wan. Barely out of his teens.

"I don't think you know who you're mugging, kid," Arisin warned. "Turn around and walk away and I may let you live." He had to grin. Not two hours on planet and he was getting robbed. He hadn't even left the Palace.

"I ain't afraid o' you!" the kid said with a laugh. "_I_ got the knife, now gimme your money!" When Arisin did nothing, the man lunged. He slashed at Arisin's chest, the blade singing as is swung through the air. Arisin calmly held out a hand, a subtle gesture, as if asking for quiet. The man froze in place, held in the steely grip of the Force. His vibroblade was a centimeter from Arisin's heart, still humming. The man looked at Arisin, eyes wide, confused and frightened.

"You're right. You do have the knife. I, however," said Arisin, reaching into his robes, "have this." He ignited his lightsaber, bringing its emerald blade up to point directly at the would-be mugger's throat. "Now, I know I warned you, right?"

The mugger nodded. He gave a little whimper.

"But you didn't listen, did you?"

The man shook his head, looking terrified. _Good._

"I'm going to have to tell my master about this. Do you know who my master is?" Arisin asked, keeping his tone low and even.

The young man shook his head.

"I serve the Emperor," Arisin explained. "I'm the man who killed Darth Vader." He leaned in close to the man's face. "And took his place," Arisin whispered.

The man's eyes widened further, now realizing the terrible mistake he'd made in picking his mark.

"I can save you, if you do as you're told." He lowered the saber from the man's throat.

The man nodded vigorously.

Arisin released his hold and the mugger fell to the ground. "Get up," ordered Arisin. The man slowly climbed to his feet, never taking his eyes off the glowing blade. When he stood upright, he looked into Arisin's eyes. Before he could utter a sound, there was a flash of green as Arisin plunged his lightsaber through the man's chest. The vibroblade he'd been holding fell from his hand and clattered to the ground.

A look of complete shock was painted across the man's face. "But you said you'd save me!" he sputtered weakly.

Arisin looked into his eyes and pulled him close. "I did." He deactivated the lightsaber and clipped it back on his belt, allowing the man's corpse to collapse to the ground.

He sensed his master touch his mind with the Force, transmitting a sense of urgency. It was time to address the Empire. He acknowledged the call through the Force and set off to join the Emperor.

Arisin had never seen the Senate building before but he had heard descriptions from those who had. Those vague descriptions couldn't prepare him for the real thing. The structure was an enormous domed colossus of a building. It was at least five hundred meters tall and easily twice that across, looking like an enormous squat mushroom. Huge statues lined the walkways which led to and around the building. A one hundred meter tall sculpture of the Emperor stood sentinel over the main entrance. Thousands of citizens had gathered at the Senate, despite the hour, awaiting their Emperor's arrival. They didn't need to wait long.

As the shuttle landed, the ever growing crowd cheered. The sound was deafening, even inside the ship. The boarding ramp lowered to the ground and two crimson cloaked guards disembarked, standing watch over the people. The cheers only grew louder as Palpatine emerged from the shuttle and ascended the gangplank, trailed closely by Lord Arisin.

During the flight, he had told his master of the mugger. "One less miscreant," had been the Emperor's response.

Arisin's boots clanked heavily down the ramp after his master. All these people…He'd never seen anything like it. They lined the pathway fifty meters off to each side and stretched for hundreds of meters along the paths, easily a hundred meters deep. Stormtroopers in their bone-white armor were stationed every few meters to keep the people in check. As they walked briskly to the building, Arisin heard large sections of the crowd chanting "Palpatine! Palpatine!" Would a similar crowd one day chant his name?

Off to the left, a man had broken through the line and was sprinting toward the Emperor, shouting curses. The old robed figure gave an almost imperceptible hand gesture and, before even the elite Royal Guardsmen could react, the man toppled over in his tracks, unmoving. Not missing a single stride, the Emperor walked calmly into the building, leaving behind the chanting mob.

Arisin, who had slowed to take in the frenzied atmosphere, hurried to catch up to his master. "Master," he started, "That man back there, how did you kill him?" He was impressed with the abruptness of the death.

"I stopped his heart in his chest," Palpatine answered bluntly. "A simple matter. Focus now about the task at hand," he instructed. "In a few moments, I will address all the citizens of the Empire. I will tell them of our glorious defeat of the Rebellion and of the defection of the two most famous and most hated Rebels to our side." Palpatine halted the precession. "Many will not be receptive to the idea of you being at my side. When it is your time to speak, convince them otherwise. You are their superior. Be sure they understand this when you have finished."

"I will, Master." Arisin was surprised by how nervous he was. He tried several Force calming techniques. They helped some, but he still felt uncomfortable with the fact that soon, countless trillions of eyes would be on him. _Use your fear. Let it flow through you and strengthen you._

The inside of the building wasn't what he'd expected. A large hallway circled what appeared to be the main auditorium, which seemed to take up the majority of the massive structure's volume. Doorways and turbolifts were evenly spaced every few meters. Golden statues of long dead Chancellors adorned the hallway and hundreds of banners bearing the Imperial Seal emblazoned on a field of red hung along the walls.

"Leave us," the Emperor said, dismissing their entourage with a flick of the wrist. The guards broke off, leaving only master and apprentice to continue down the hallway. They stopped before an ornate turbolift and went through the open door. To Arisin's surprise, the lift took them _down_. He estimated it was ten levels or more. It opened onto the ground floor of the cavernous auditorium. Thousands of hoverpods lined the walls, which stretched up for two hundred meters. In the center of the floor stood a podium. The Emperor led him onto the podium with the press of a button, sent the podium rising over thirty meters atop a telescoping pedestal. Small remote holocams floated nearby, waiting to record the imminent State of the Empire Address. Several senate pods were filled with high ranking Imperial officials, eager to hear what the Emperor had to say first-hand.

In unison, all of the holocams' lights flashed on, signaling the beginning of the galaxy-wide transmission. They were now live on over one million planets and nearly ten million colonies.

The Emperor stepped forward.

"The war is over," he announced triumphantly. This was the second such speech he'd given to the galaxy. "Days ago, the Rebellion was dealt a blow from which there can be no recovery. Within days, weeks at the outset, all traces of the terrorist organization known as the Alliance to Restore the Republic will be purged from the galaxy." He smiled. "All remaining Rebels will be caught, tried, and executed for acts of treason against the Empire.

"The war has raged for nearly a generation, costing millions of Imperial lives and hundreds of trillions of Imperial credits.

"I am certain we will recover from this most grievous time only to be stronger than ever! We are a New Empire, once again forged in the fires of war, tested by our enemies and those who would seek to disrupt the peace that we have so long sought after. I wish now to introduce to you all the man responsible for quelling the deadly insurrection once and for all." He turned and placed a hand on Arisin's shoulder, bringing him forward.

"Many of you may recognize him as one of the Empire's most wanted Rebel leaders. I do not doubt that you wonder if he is to be trusted given his crimes against the Empire. I can assure you that he has seen the error of his ways, recognized the destruction brought about by the Rebellion. And when Darth Vader attempted to assassinate me and usurp the Imperial Throne, it was this man who put down the traitor and saved my life, for which I will be eternally grateful." He stood back and allowed his apprentice to speak.

Arisin took a deep breath and began to speak. "You all know me as Commander Luke Skywalker, Rebel pilot, rabble-rouser, and traitor. Forget him. He is dead; he died the moment I was shown the true scope of the Rebellion's actions. The Emperor has shown me how damaging the Rebellion has been, how futile and, most of all, how _wrong_ it was. I am Darth Arisin for now and forever more." He could feel his fear turn to strength as he spoke. "I know that few of you mourn for Darth Vader, my father. Nor should you. He was a stain on the Empire."

Arisin paused, allowing the people watching to let it all sink in. His heart was racing.

"Vader, once known the galaxy over as Anakin Skywalker, died a traitor, without honor. No longer will he be feared _or_ respected. From this day, his name should be synonymous with shame and betrayal.

"I have since taken Vader's place at His Majesty's side. I vow not to make those same mistakes which my father made. I will be stronger, smarter, and more honorable. I am honored to serve the Empire and, in turn, all of you. I will personally ensure that peace is again brought to the galaxy."

He stepped back beside with his master. "Wonderfully said, Lord Arisin," the Emperor said softly in Arisin's ear. "Vader will soon be but an unpleasant aftertaste in the mouth of the Empire." Palpatine stepped forward again.

"Now is a time to rebuild," he said, addressing the Empire. "Bonds that have been broken shall be mended. Families torn apart shall be reunited. Let the healing begin!"

All those observing from the various pods stood and applauded. The holocams turned and swept the small crowd before cutting the transmission. Arisin released a sigh of relief. He felt, finally, that it was over. It was done.

"I'm needed here on the capital," said the Emperor as he lowered the podium back to ground level. "I have many things to take care of, including your sister's training. You will leave first thing tomorrow for the Maw Installation."

"Weren't we to visit the opera this evening, Master?" Arisin inquired.

The Emperor gave a heavy sigh. "It would seem that several key cast members and, indeed, their understudies, were in fact Rebel plants here on Coruscant," he explained. "Evidently, the actors were able to get close to several Imperial officers over time and obtain substantial amounts of information." He sounded genuinely disappointed. "The Rebels, as well as those officers who so eloquently hemorrhaged information, have already been executed as traitors. The opera will close until suitable replacements can be found."

"I understand, Master. May I ask what exactly are the details of my mission? I still feel somewhat in the dark about the whole thing." The podium had reached the ground floor and the Sith disembarked, heading back to the waiting shuttle.

"You are to oversee the final phase of construction of this new weapon." Palpatine paused a moment. "Well, it is not _entirely_ a weapon. It is a massive transportation device, capable of transferring matter, vast amounts, such as naval fleets or, indeed, even an entire planet, from one point in space to another device placed anywhere in the galaxy. There will be several of these devices, spread across the galaxy. The matter can be transported from one of these 'hubs' to any other instantaneously. I'm told a transgalactic journey takes just three seconds."

"You said it can transport entire planets? How is this possible?" They had made their way to the turbolift and were now back in the outer ring of the senate complex. The Emperor's guards still stood where he'd dismissed them.

"The device utilizes newly developed wormhole technology. I don't understand the technicalities of it, only its potential." He motioned for the guards to follow, which they did soundlessly. Their cyclopic visage was unsettling enough to most that few people had the nerve to get within a few dozen meters of them.

The Emperor continued, "I have also arranged to have the Installation work with you on designing and building you a personal ship. It will have all of the newest technology incorporated into it, of course."

Arisin's eyes widened in surprise. "Thank you, Master," he said gratefully.

"There is no need for thanks. Every Sith requires a ship which becomes, over time, an extension of their very being. It will be as much a part of you as your new lightsaber, which I encourage you to construct soon. You cannot continue to carry that Jedi weapon," he pointed to the hilt at Arisin's hip. "It is a part of your old life. You must cast it away with all the rest."

He hadn't even thought about that. So much had happened in the last few days that he'd completely forgotten about the crystal which he'd forged on Korriban.

Outside, the crowd continued cheering for their Emperor. Surrounded by the Royal Guard, Palpatine and Arisin made their way back to the shuttle. Arisin would stay over night and leave for the black hole cluster early tomorrow. He suspected that when he returned, his sister would be well on her way to achieving her potential power. This pleased him. His feelings for her hadn't changed. He still wanted what was best for her. His only concern was that she'd turn on the Emperor and the old man would be forced to kill her. Silently, he prayed that she would see reason and not try anything foolish.

They boarded the shuttle and took their seats. The ramp raised up and sealed itself, barely muffling the crowds outside. The noise made Arisin think. _Is this what we were fighting for? These people aren't in need of a savior. Listen to them. They _worship_ the Emperor._ This was exactly the sort of thing he needed Leia to see. They were fighting for people who didn't _want_ to be fought for, people who are content where they are.

The repulsors hummed to life, interrupting Arisin's thoughts. The shuttle began to rise, shuddering slightly. It gained altitude and rocketed back toward the Imperial Palace.

Palpatine sat in meditation, thinking of the triumph of the address, similarly lost in his own thoughts. He remembered his first public address...

He was twenty-two, campaigning for a man running for the Coruscanti seat in the Senate. In the beginning, he'd been terrified. The crowd was tens of thousands strong, pulsating with energy. And he could _feel_ it. When the moment came to give his speech, he took all of his angst and buried it down deep. Once he'd begun, he took off like a raging rancor. He couldn't be stopped. He spoke for close to an hour; the entire crowd grew silent, hanging on his every word.

When he'd finished, the crowd exploded. He was so passionate, so charismatic. He had the ability to captivate each and every being listening and he had never even suspected he harbored such a talent. It was almost as though he had cast some spell over the crowd, bent their minds to his own. He knew that if he could continue getting a response like that, the man, a Muun named Damask, would have all the votes he needed to secure him a place in the Senate.

He soon rose through the ranks in the campaign, eventually securing the position of Damask's personal assistant, public relations manager, and primary orator. His speeches became more and more frequent as the campaign neared the end. Damask seemed to connect with young Palpatine. He knew the boy's charisma would take him far.

During one rally, the finally rally before the election, a number of Jedi Masters and their Padawan learners were enlisted to assist the CSF with crowd control. They patrolled the perimeter, on the lookout for troublemakers and other hidden dangers. Palpatine began his speech as he had a hundred times before. But upon seeing the Jedi, a wave of anger, of pure unadulterated _hatred_ washed over him and he nearly froze mid-sentence. Simultaneously, the Jedi all snapped their heads up to scan the crowd for the disturbance they had sensed. When Palpatine sat down after his address, he noticed the Muun staring at him, almost as though in awe, before hastily congratulating him on his rousing oration.

The shuttle flew into the now brightly lit hangar; the Palace was an amazing sight to see lit up at night, a mountain of light. Many of the technicians had left, though a small crew had stayed behind in order to tend to the Emperor's shuttle upon its return. As the ship set down, Palpatine turned to his apprentice.

"Before we left, I took the liberty of acquiring the access codes for your father's quarters, as well as supplying you with a new wardrobe." He handed Arisin a sheet of flimsiplast with his room's codes printed on its clear surface. Arisin folded it up and slid it into his robes. The boarding ramp lowered and the troupe of guards filed down to the hangar floor. "Go," said Palpatine. "You leave early tomorrow. A Sith finds rest when he can."

"Yes, Master." Arisin stood and disembarked the shuttle. Palpatine watched as he exited the hangar and thought of the tremendous battle he had won in turning young Skywalker. And all the battles the new Sith Lord would help him win. _Now_, he thought, _the sister_.

Shortly after leaving the shuttle, he was approached in the hallway by a palace technician. "I'm here to ensure you unrestricted access to all parts of the palace as well as all of Lord Vader's personal property," he explained.

Arisin produced the sheet of flimsi the Emperor had given him. "I've already been given the access codes."

"The access codes only get you so far," said the technician. "But there are some sections where codes aren't in use, sensitive or high security areas and the like. After I scan your retinas into the system, you can go anywhere you please without ever having to punch in a single code." He held up a small device that resembled a glowrod. "It's a new system we've installed here in the palace. We're working on integrating it into the rest of our properties across the galaxy, too. Now," he said. "If you'll just hold still and look straight ahead, this'll only take a moment."

Arisin did as he was told, focusing on the far wall just over the man's right shoulder. The tech brought the device up to each eye and, after a quick flash of blue light he was done. "Alright," he said. "You retina patterns have been entered into the system. You're done. Have a good evening, sir." He turned and walked away.

That had been hours ago. Arisin currently lay awake in his new bed. Though the blinds were shut, thin beams of light still streaked through the windows with each passing speeder. Finally deciding sleep was out of the question, he got up. He slipped on his boots and moved to the center of the cavernous room he'd been given. He reached out with the Force and called his lightsaber to his outstretched hand. The moment the cold metal touched his skin, he felt alive. Deciding to practice his fine control of the Force, he ignited the saber and held it before him with both hands.

Slowly, he loosened his grip in the hilt until it sat, floating in the air, unwavering. The constant hum of the blade helped him to concentrate. He first decided to rotate the lightsaber on its horizontal axis, like a drill. He fought to keep the saber perfectly balanced in the air while still spinning it. Once he'd done that, he moved on to something more challenging.

With a sweep of his arm, he sent the lightsaber flying across the room like an arrow; he froze the glowing blade just millimeters from scorching the wall. He spun the saber, this time laterally, as he'd seen Vader do. He sent the spinning green disk hurtling around the room, careful to veer it away a split second before it would cleave something in two. The exercise caused an eerie strobe effect around the room. He continued this control exercise until sunlight sun crept slowly through the blinds in slanting rays across the floor.

Though he'd gotten no sleep, he felt strangely refreshed. He was pleased with his level of control. The last few days had seen further and faster progression than all the last four years combined.

As he dressed into fresh clothes, his room's intercom gave a twitter. He activated the switch with the Force.

His master's voice answered. "_Are you ready to leave?_" the Emperor croaked.

"I am. Just tell me which ship I'm to take and I'll be on my way."

"_Good. Head to the hangar. A shuttle is already prepped and awaiting your arrival. It will take you to your ship. I will contact you once you reach the Installation._" There was a click and the intercom ended transmission.

_Take me to my ship? What's my ship?_

He made the journey to the shuttle bay fairly quickly; it seemed to be second nature lately. Just as the Emperor had said, a single shuttle sat prepared and ready to go. The ramp was already lowered so he made his way into the ship. As he stepped into the cabin, the pilot's voice sounded through the speakers. "_Good morning, Lord Arisin. I've been assigned to take you to your ship. I'm told your things have already been sent ahead and are waiting aboard for you. So, if you're ready, we'll take off._" The boarding ramp rose and sealed shut with a clank. Arisin took his seat and listened as the engines hummed to life.

"Pilot," he called up to the cockpit. "Just where exactly are you taking me?"

"_Um_," the pilot sounded confused. "_To your ship, sir. The _Executor_. It's in orbit around the planet._"

_What?_ "Oh, yes, of course." Arisin was shocked, to say the least. The Emperor had granted him the flagship of the Imperial Navy. It was well-known and much feared in the Alliance; the _Executor_ had claimed an inordinate number of Rebel lives. It was legendary. And now it was _his_.

_Today is truly a wonderful day_, thought the aging Emperor. This dawn marked the beginning of the first war-free day in over two decades. He had finally fulfilled the promise he had made all those years ago to bring peace to the galaxy.

The war had begun with a coalition of senators during the later years of his chancellorship. They opposed the Senate's decision to grant him emergency powers. Like fools, they felt the Clone Wars could have been avoided through diplomacy alone. While he had, of course, been in control of both sides the entire time, the very belief which the senators shared was stupid and weak. No war could be ended with words. What they wanted was unobtainable without sacrifice. You cannot have peace without war.

He had fabricated the war, yes, but only to ensure peace in the future. The Republic was crumbling; a great many systems had lost faith in the Republic and the increasingly ineffectual office of the Supreme Chancellor. So he had created a threat. After being elected Chancellor, he promised to eliminate that threat. To do that, he created a great army, thereby strengthening the Republic. He planned to end the war and breathe new life into the ailing government. Faith would again be restored in the Republic and peace would fall over the galaxy. And he had succeeded, to a point. His popularity was off the charts and the citizens of the Republic had a higher opinion of their government than they had in _centuries_.

But that group of senators didn't like the idea of a single person with near absolute power. They felt it was dangerous. Before long they accrued a following. Eventually, the coalition became a rebellion. In fighting for "justice," they murdered. In fighting for peace, they warred. In fighting for equality, they preached prejudice towards Imperials. They silently attacked Imperial vessels then denounced the Empire as tyrannical for countering. It was a rebellion based on dishonesty and misdirection. It had been a truly dark time for the galaxy. But now, the chaos had been stopped in its tracks. Everything was being rebuilt. Peace had been accomplished.

As the Emperor sat in his throne contemplating the victory, Sate Pestage came bearing news.

"Your Majesty!" he clamored excitedly. "We've just received word that three more Rebel worlds have surrendered. That makes fifteen in the last ten hours. At this rate, you will have complete autonomy within the week."

The Emperor laced his fingers together. "Excellent. That is wonderful news. These are critical times. We must do what must be done. We cannot hesitate and we can show no mercy. In their desperation, the Rebels will show us none in return." He leaned back in his throne. "Now, I would like the princess brought here within the hour. Make sure she has a room and all the proper access codes. She must feel free to leave at any time. That is the only way to gain her trust so that I may begin her training."

"Yes, Your Highness." Pestage bowed deeply. "She shall be here within this hour. Shall I acquire her a room near Master Arisin's?"

"Yes," said the Emperor. "I think that would be a good idea, though, for the time being, Lord Arisin is away. He is observing the end stage of construction of Gate One. He should be away two weeks at most."

"Ah, yes. The Gateway Project. I've heard astonishing things about that. Can it really do what they claim?" Pestage inquired. "Can it truly move entire worlds?"

"Indeed," the Emperor responded.

Sate turned and walked out of the office, muttering to himself, "Amazing, truly amazing."

The Emperor chuckled to himself. _Yes_, he thought. _It is_. He closed his eyes in meditation, devising the best strategy to turn the princess to the Dark Side. He sat quietly, devising…and remembering.

Senate nominee Hego Damask was rich. He came from a very wealthy and very old banking family on Muunilinst. Before immigrating to Coruscant, Hego had spent nearly thirty years on the board of the InerGalactic Banking Clan, just as his father, grandfather, and great-grandmother had before him. Although he was accustomed to using the vast resources at his disposal to ferret out his clients' deepest darkest secrets in order to ensure they made the proper payments on time, none ever discovered _his_ comparatively much darker secret. Hego Damask was a Sith Lord.

He liked to think of himself as a "new breed" of Sith. In order to remain hidden from the Jedi who would certainly kill any foolish enough to reveal themselves, the Sith had learned patience. _Unlimited_ patience. The Jedi would be beaten, of that he had no doubt. But it wouldn't be with the lightsaber, but rather with the pen. He hoped to set into motion events that would lead to the Jedi's _political_ downfall, to destroy them in the eyes of the public, who had always placed them upon pedestals higher than the tallest towers of Harnaidan on his native Muunilinst. He knew it wouldn't happen in his lifetime, he was nearing to sixty Standard years old, so he sought an apprentice. Someone strong in the Force with a brilliant mind for politics. And he'd just found him.

He was sitting on stage at one of his own rallies, the final rally, in fact, before the election. Supporters spoke for him but he wasn't hearing a word. Instead, he was scanning the crowd with the Force for a slight disturbance he'd felt several weeks before during a similar rally. This time, though, Jedi were on patrol. He would need to exercise caution.

Damask's most staunch supporter, a young man from Naboo with a transplanted Coruscanti accent and a shock of auburn hair, was speaking now. _Palpatine_, the senate hopeful said to himself. _He is truly brilliant._ Damask had tried to sense the Force within the boy on numerous occasions but had always come up empty handed. It was as though the young man were a void; some hideous entity which even the Force dared not touch. A curiosity, to be sure, but useless nonetheless. Such a pity. The young Human had such a wonderful grasp on politics. Hego foresaw Palpatine going far. Just not as a Sith.

However, because of this peculiar Force-void, Damask hadn't even considered focusing on young Palpatine that day. So when he felt a burst of pure dark rage explode from the young man, he was nearly shocked out of his seat. He quickly scanned the crowd to see if the Jedi had felt the disturbance. They had. But they looked confused. _Good_, he thought. _The fools have no clue where it came from._ He took note of one Jedi, however, who was glancing up in Palpatine's general direction. He was a dark-skinned Jedi. Young, likely still a Padawan. Though, with an uncharacteristically shaven head, his status couldn't be positively determined.

Palpatine finished his speech and quickly took his seat beside the tall Muun. The crowd thundered like warring rancors. They loved him. Damask leaned close to the young aide's ear. "That was wonderful, son," he whispered in a nasally voice. "I would like to see you at my apartment this evening. Five Hundred Republica. I have the penthouse on the northern face. Come around eight. I've big plans for you, my boy." He placed a long-fingered hand on the boy's shoulder and flashed him a proud grin before standing to address the still roaring crowd. Palpatine sat in stunned silence.

Later that evening, Palpatine looked anxiously at his chronometer. It was eight sharp. He'd just parked his speeder on the penthouse platform at Five Hundred Republica, right on time. Damask was there waiting, speeder light glaring dimly off the hairless dome of his oddly elongated head.

Palpatine handed the would-be senator a bottle of expensive Alderaanian ale. He wasn't sure of the protocol in a situation such as this. He figured a gift couldn't hurt. "I wasn't sure if I was supposed to bring anything so I stopped off on the way here," he explained sheepishly. He was beyond nervous.

A smile graced Damask's thin lips. "A gift was not necessary, son," the Muun droned. "But it is appreciated. Thank you." He looked at the bottle. Alderaanian ale, aged seven hundred years. Its worn label still showed the Organa family crest. This surprised him. "This is very expensive," he told the boy. "You really should let me compensate you."

"Oh, no, sir. Really, I couldn't take your money." Palpatine had spent every last credit he'd earned in the last three months on that bottle.

"Who said anything about money?" Damask's voice, initially warm and inviting, dropped a few degrees.

A look of confusion crossed Palpatine's face.

Damask swept one long, skinny arm toward the door. "Come, my boy. We've much to discuss."

Five minutes and two glasses of the strong ale later, Damask broke the silence that had developed.

"No doubt you're wondering why I've asked you here," he started carefully.

"I had wondered, sir. It sounded important." Palpatine took one last draught of his drink.

"Indeed it is. Far more than you realize," Damask said, his tone grave. "I am going to share with you a secret. One so dangerous, that if anyone were to find out, we both might be killed. I will give you this chance to walk away. Away from me, away from my campaign, and away from my secret. You will be safe and I will not contact you again." He stopped long enough for the young man to comprehend what he'd just been told. "I am sorry for forcing this decision on you, I am. But it is necessary, believe me. I must ask that you choose now." Hego stared hard at the boy with beady little eyes.

Palpatine's mind reeled. What could the secret be? Was it worth putting himself in danger, possibly _mortal_, to find out? He'd grown very close to the man over the months; grown to trust him.

"I trust you, sir," the youth said at last. "And you can trust me. You may tell me your secret."

Damask smiled. He knew he could trust him.

"No doubt you know all about the Jedi," Damask began.

At the mention of the Jedi, a brief wave of anger rolled off the young man.

Damask continued. "But you may not know of those who opposed them thousands of years ago. A group called—"

"The Sith," answered Palpatine softly, the words tumbling from his lips before he could stop them. "They were slaughtered by the _Jedi_ for their alternate philosophy concerning use of the Force."

Damask never ceased to be amazed. "Yes, that is correct," he confirmed. "They feared the Dark Side of the Force because they did not understand it. The Jedi do not trust things they don't understand."

Palpatine had been telling himself that very thing since reading _The Golden Age of the Sith_ as a child. It felt good to hear someone else say it, too.

"My _birth_ name is Hego Siv Damask," the Muun said, "but my _true _name, my _Sith_ name, is Darth Plagueis."

"Darth—? You're a _Sith_? But-but they've been extinct for a thousand years!" Palpatine sputtered. Then his voice took on a menacing note. "The Jedi saw to that."

Damask smiled. He was impressed at the boy's knowledge. "Not extinct, son. _Dormant_. Once, the Sith were many. But a thousand years ago, the Jedi defeated them at the Battle of Ruusan. They believed the Sith had all been wiped out in that one fell swoop."

"But they were wrong," said Palpatine, stating the obvious. A smile formed on his lips. Like a child hearing his favorite bedtime story, he leaned in closer.

"Yes, they were. One remained, Darth Bane. He rewrote the Sith Order. In order to remain secret and embody the full power of the Dark Side in order to defeat the Jedi, the Sith would only practice in twos: a Master and an Apprentice. I," he said, placing a hand on his own chest, "am the Master. I wish for you," he placed his hand now on Palpatine's shoulder, "to be the Apprentice."

Palpatine was in shock. Not only was the group he had idolized since boyhood still alive, contrary to history's records, but he was being asked to _join_ it. There were no words in Galactic Basic to describe how he felt. None save one.

"Yes."

Emperor Palpatine sensed someone approach the office doors. "Enter," he called out before they had time to push the call button.

The doors slid open, revealing Princess Leia Organa. Her hands were shackled in front of her.

"Welcome, Princess. I've no doubt this isn't your first visit to this Palace." He bade her come nearer.

Leia crossed the large office and gave the Emperor a cold stare. "Is this how you treat guests, Palpatine?" she said, holding up her bound wrists.

"Why, no, Princess," he said innocently. "Who was it who put these on you?" With a wave of his hand, the binders snapped open and clattered noisily to the floor. He offered her his nicest smile.

"Kavil, a lieutenant, I believe. The same man who picked us up on Endor. He really was quite rude. You should teach your flunkies better manners," she said. Then, in artificial courtesy, she added, "Your Majesty." She returned the Emperor's smile with a smug one of her own.

"Such an ugly expression for such a lovely young woman," the Emperor responded. He pressed a button on the arm of his throne. "Is Lieutenant Kavil still here?" he asked.

"_Yes, Your Highness_," a voice answered through a speaker hidden in his desk.

"Good. Send him in immediately." He looked the princess in the eye. "This will take but a moment, Your Highness. Feel free to take a seat."

"Thanks, I'll stand," she said defiantly. She did, however, move to the large panoramic window the office boasted. _What is he up to?_ she wondered.

"Whatever you wish." The door chimed, and then opened, revealing the young lieutenant responsible for the Rebels' capture on Endor. He looked terrified and excited at the same time.

"Come in," said the Emperor warmly.

Kavil looked first at the Emperor, then to Leia, as he stepped slowly through the doorway and into the large room. The giant doors slid shut behind him with an ominous clang.

"Lieutenant Kavil. You are the individual responsible for the capture of the Rebel infiltrators on Endor, are you not?" the Emperor inquired.

Kavil straightened. "Yes, sir. I am," he said proudly.

"That is very good, Lieutenant. Tell me, does the Rebellion exist any longer?"

The confused lieutenant began to sweat. "N-no, sir, it doesn't."

"Then perhaps you can tell me why the princess here was brought in wearing those," he said, gesturing towards the binders lying on the carpet.

Kavil swallowed hard before answering. "B-because she is a Rebel, sir."

"Ah, but you said not ten seconds ago that the Rebellion no longer exists. So I will ask you again," Palpatine's tone turned as cold as ice on Hoth. "Why was the princess brought to me in wrist binders?"

Kavil fought with his knees to keep himself standing. He looked at the princess, who was doing her best to keep her attention on the outside traffic and not on the situation unfolding behind her. "I-I just _assumed—_"

"You assumed what, Lieutenant? That an unarmed girl would be some sort of danger to me in my own palace? Are you under the impression that I am in need of your personal protection? That I am in some way incapable of defending myself?" He stood from his throne and walked towards the young officer, who looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Kavil didn't answer. Sweat poured down his face. His entire body twitched with fear and anxiety. The Emperor brought up one hand. Blue energy laced between the fingers. "I am _never_ unarmed," he said menacingly.

"Today is the first day of the New Empire," he said lightly. "In upholding the spirit of change, I will have the princess choose your punishment. She is, after all, the wronged party."

Kavil's eyes shot over to Leia, who snapped her head over to the two men abruptly. "Me?" she asked, confused.

Tendrils of dark energy continued to crackle between the Emperor's pale fingers, casting eerie flickering light on his robes. "Yes. Any punishment you choose, provided it fit the crime. The degree of the crime is to be determined by you, of course." He lowered his hand and the energy evaporated. Kavil let out a somewhat relieved sigh.

Leia looked at the man's frightened face, into his eyes. She felt sorry for him. But then she remembered. "You," she said, anger creeping into her voice. "You're the one who shot Chewbacca."

Kavil gulped. "T-the Wookiee? He was resisting arres—"

"He wasn't resisting anything," she interrupted. "One of _your_ men had a gun shoved in my back and he didn't like that. He was protecting _me_ from one of your trigger-happy goons. And _you_ shot him." Fury flashed in her eyes as she replayed the event in her mind.

She turned to the Emperor. This was what he'd been waiting for. "A life for a life," she said. "He murdered a friend." She looked back at Kavil. Her face was cold and expressionless. Her words carried no emotion. She might as well have just swatted an annoying insect. The Emperor smiled.

"Yes, I think that is more than fair. Don't you, Lieutenant?" he said, turning back to the man.

"Wait—!" Before he could say another word, crackling energy leapt into his body from the Emperor's fingertips and he was dead in an instant.

"I am not an unfair man," said Palpatine as the body crumpled to the floor, lightly smoking as residual energy arced along the corpse's clothing.

Leia said nothing. She just looked at the body of the lieutenant whose death she herself had just ordered. She suddenly found herself feeling bad. Not that the man had been killed. He had certainly deserved death. No, what she felt bad about was the fact that she _herself_ hadn't killed him. What she had just witnessed wasn't murder, it was justice. Wasn't that what she had been fighting for all these years? Maybe the Emperor could help her after all. With his training, she could not only continue to fight for justice, she could actually _ensure_ it.

"You want to train me," she said. It was not a question.

"Yes. I wish for you to be my Hand in the galaxy. Where justice must be served, you will be there. I can teach you to use the potential power within you."

"And if I accept, you would train me personally?"

"Yes."

"Pardon my bluntness, Your Majesty, but aren't you a little old?" Leia seemed to know no fear. She stared directly into the old man's sickly yellow eyes. He gave her a smile.

Before she could begin to comprehend what was happening, a shadow flew over her head and the Emperor was gone.

"Age makes little difference to the Dark Side, princess," said the shadow. The sound of his voice from behind her made her jump. She whipped around and found herself face-to-face with the ancient human.

"Spry for an old man." She tried to hide her complete surprise. After a brief moment of silence, she locked on to his gaze and said, "Alright. I'm yours."


	5. Dark Hand

**Chapter 5: Dark Hand**

A shockwave in the Force woke Arisin from his deep sleep. It was his master.

_She is turning, Lord Arisin._ The Emperor's words were clear in his mind, as if he were whispering them in his apprentice's ear.

_So soon, Master?_ Arisin replied wordlessly, his thoughts crossing the enormous distance between them as easily as if they were in the same room.

_She has much anger. See for yourself._ Arisin's sleeping quarters were suddenly replaced with a vision of another place. It was a large office, definitely on Coruscant; in his periphery he saw endless lines of air traffic glittering in the waning late afternoon sunlight. It swiftly occurred to him that he was looking through his master's eyes. His vision shifted to look at Leia, who appeared to be watching traffic and avoiding the Emperor's gaze. Her head snapped up abruptly and her lips formed a word. It looked like "me." The image bobbed as his master nodded his head. The view then shifted from Leia to a man. The man looked utterly terrified, and strangely familiar.

Arisin probed his own mind until he found the answer: Lieutenant Kavil, the man in charge of capturing the Rebels on Endor, the man who Arisin himself had surrendered to. Judging by his expression, he was in trouble. Kavil looked to the Emperor, then over to Leia, who glared sabers at him. He did this several times before screaming something. Instantly, he saw his, or rather his master's, arms lift and blue fire leapt into the man's body and his smoking corpse fell to the ground.

The image turned back to Leia. Her face was expressionless as she began to speak. Arisin couldn't make out what was being said. After a few moments, though, he thought he caught Leia say something about "a little old." He shook his head. Her sharp tongue would get her hurt someday.

Mid-thought, Leia disappeared from his field of vision. The Emperor looked to be sailing through the air above her head.

_What happened?_ He projected a sense of concern. _Master? Are you alright?_

_Do not worry, Lord Arisin,_ the Emperor answered. _Just proving a point._

The image was now of Leia's back. She turned around quickly, startled. After a short exchange of words, Leia looked down. When she looked back up, she stared into the Emperor's eyes.

"Alright," he watched her say. "I'm yours."

Arisin was shocked. He was sure his sister would take much longer. Her stubbornness exceeds even her intelligence. Though, he admitted to himself, she still has a long way to go. A wave of relief washed over him as he realized she would be safe now. At least for as long as she cooperated. He was immensely pleased that she had taken that first step.

_It is done, Lord Arisin. She will be one of us._ He sensed his master's pleasure.

_Yes, Master. _Arisin responded._ She will be a powerful asset. She won't let us down._

_Indeed. If she survives her training._

_She won't disappoint you, Master. I can guarantee that._

_I will contact you further once you reach the Installation._ Before Arisin could answer, he felt his master disconnect from his mind.

Arisin stood and moved over to the command console installed in his quarters. He commed the bridge.

"Admiral Piett, how close are we to Maw Installation?"

"_Well, sir_," answered the admiral, "_Due to the severe gravitic fluctuations caused by the black hole cluster, we'll have to exit hyperspace every few minutes to recalculate a safe route. I can give you distance, sir, but not time. We are currently at,_" he paused a moment, "_one-point-eight light-years from the Installation. However, we cannot go as the mynock flies, as I said. It could be as much as a day before we arrive._"

Arisin shook his head. That wasn't nearly good enough. "I'm coming to the bridge. Perhaps I can get us there a little faster."

"_As you wish, sir. Piett, out_." He wasn't skeptical. He wasn't patronizing. He was just…compliant. He had a job to do and would do as he was told without question. Like a good little officer.

Five minutes later, Arisin was at the helm, his eyes closed in concentration as he communed with the Force. It would tell him the shortest hyperspace routes. He felt…and got it. He entered the coordinates into the computer and the great ship leapt out of real space.

Piett looked over the Dark Lord's shoulder in disbelief at the nav readout.

"You've just cut our distance in half with that set of coordinates!" he blurted out in astonishment.

"Yes, I did," said Arisin. "We should exit hyperspace sometime in the next hour. I halved our speed to avoid overstraining the engines in the increased gravity of this sector. Let me know the second we re-enter real space. I'll be in my quarters."

"Yes, Milord." Piett gave a curt bow and Arisin swept off the bridge.

The young Sith Lord enjoyed the sideways glances he was getting from the crew. They feared him, yes. They had all seen Vader in action and feared Arisin equally. But more than that, they _respected_ him. Vader had never cultivated such respect. How could he? Regardless of his military prowess as a Jedi of the Republic, his mistakes were plentiful and glaring. He killed officers on a whim and surrounded himself with an atmosphere of such fear that those around him actually found it _harder_ to meet his impossible standards. Arisin wouldn't make _that_ mistake. Execution would be reserved for absolute heinous acts of insubordination, borderline treasonous. Punishment would be swift but appropriate to the offense. That way, he kept the fear _and_ respect.

He walked through the bare hallways back to his quarters. _Mine_, he thought, glancing all around. Crew passed him without a second glance, something they learned with Vader.

_This whole ship is mine. Nineteen kilometers of raw power._ He smiled to himself. _But I think we can do _better_. _

The enormous ship was practically a living organism. The hallways and corridors, its arteries and veins, crawled with twenty thousand technicians and crew. Its belly was full of thirty-eight thousand troops and hundreds of armored walkers and support craft. Two full wings of TIEs, one hundred and forty-four ships, sat prepped and ready for action. The shield plated hull bristled with over five hundred turbolaser batteries and one hundred missile tubes. It was enough to lay siege to an entire planet, or fend off an entire fleet for days. Along with its sister ships, it was the largest ship in the Imperial Fleet. Indeed, the largest class ever constructed next to the Death Stars. _Mine_.

Arisin was struck by a spontaneous thought. He took the comm from his belt and brought it to his lips.

"Admiral Piett?"

There was a brief moment of silence, then, _"Sir?"_ Arisin could hear the sounds of the bridge in the background.

"I'd like to rename this ship."

_"Change the name, sir?"_ Piett sounded puzzled.

"Yes. _Executor_ was my father's ship. The name is an unpleasant reminder of his regime. As I said in my address, I want all traces of that man erased from this Empire."

_"Alright, sir. And what would you like the new name to be?" _

Arisin smiled into the comm, fully aware that Piett couldn't see.

"The_ Dark Hand_. My sister will soon be meting out the Emperor's justice. I think I'd like for this ship to be a gift for when she completes her training. I can acquire another ship from His Majesty."

_"Very good, sir. I'll get on the name change immediately. Is there anything else, sir?"_

"No," said Arisin. "Nothing else."

_"Alright, sir. Piett out."_ A click announced the line's disconnection.

He hoped Leia would appreciate the gift. He realized that he was a Sith Lord. He didn't need this ship; he had the power of the Force at his will, a power far greater than any warship. But Leia, for all her power, would need just such a vessel to do her job. With it, she could bring the Emperor's order to thousands of worlds. He felt her involvement with the Empire would prove to be invaluable.

"So you finally have me, old man. What exactly do you plan to do with me?" Leia's insubordination seemed to go unnoticed by the Emperor, who simply smiled.

"First, I shall conduct a test to determine your overall strength in the Force," he told her. "There is a simple technique I have devised that should allow me to feel your potential quite accurately. Please empty your mind. This should take but a moment." The Emperor closed his eyes and let out a long breath.

Leia felt tendrils of the Force probing her mind. She tried to empty it. They were searching for something…Without warning, a red hot stab of pain jabbed into her head and Palpatine was hurled across the room. He managed to deftly twist mid-air and push off the wall with his feet, landing on all fours like a felinx. Slightly winded, he stood and brushed himself off.

"Very impressive, Princess," he said, rubbing a sore wrist. He walked slowly back over to her, holding out a hand and calling his cane from his desk. It sailed across the room into his outstretched palm, his pale fingers closing around the gnarled and ancient wood.

Panting, Leia asked, "What was that?" The pain was subsiding, now only a mild throbbing.

"I triggered an automatic defense mechanism found in all Force-sensitives," Palpatine explained. "The stronger the reaction when triggered, the more powerful the potential."

He looked very pleased.

"I apologize for the pain, Your Highness. It was unavoidable." Something told Leia he was less than sincere in his apology. "I feel I must warn you, your training will be rather more painful," he went on. "But when you have finished, you will have access to powers you never thought possible. Pain is temporary," he said. "Power; power lasts forever." With a wave of his hand, he tripped a hidden switch that caused a section of wall to slide open, revealing a passage.

"Come," he said, motioning towards the new door.

"Where are we going?" Leia didn't like being in the dark.

"To the past," said Palpatine, who had already stepped through the doorway and faded into the shadows. "We are going to the past."

"Where are we going, sir—er, _Master?_" Palpatine didn't like being in the dark.

"To the future, my new Apprentice," said the Sith Lord Plagueis. "We are going to the future. _Your_ future." He was leading the youth through the interior of the mammoth apartment. Palpatine followed, eager to see what he was in store for.

They entered a hallway that, to Palpatine, appeared to be a dead end. Seemingly in defiance of the far wall, they continued to head towards the end until Palpatine was certain Plagueis would ram straight into the wall. Instead, the Muun stopped short and placed a hand flat against the panel. He spoke words in a language Palpatine was unfamiliar with.

_"Darthae Plageus, Luexemo lordo v Sithu." _Immediately, the wall retracted, revealing a simple turbolift.

The pair stepped inside and the door slid shut. Automatically, the lift began to descend. After a long few moments, it came to a halt. Given the unusual duration of the ride, Palpatine judged that they had to have descended well below the bedrock. The door slid open to reveal a massive subterranean chamber that appeared to have been excavated from solid rock. The floor was generally smooth and polished, but the young man could make out dozens of scuffs and scars covering the whole area of the huge open space. Strange markings were inscribed onto the floor; concentric circles crisscrossed with dozens of straight lines in bizarrely organized patterns. There were odd gouges in the floor within these markings, as though something unimaginably hot had swept across it and burnt the rock away. Across the room, he saw what appeared to be a number of large droids powered down against a far wall, the bright light glinting dully off their alloy skin. What looked to be the remains of at least four droids littered one area of the floor. The droids were in such terrible shape that it was hard to tell where one ended and another began. They looked to be torn and crushed and battered and a few of the more recognizable bits, mostly arms and legs, seemed to have melted edges.

"What is this place, sir—Master?" the boy asked in awe.

"This is where I come to train," Plagueis replied in his lazy Muun drawl. "This is where I will be training you, teaching you all of my knowledge of the Force. It is where the fall of the Jedi will begin. It is the future." The Dark Lord moved to the center of the huge chamber, his footsteps echoing all around the chamber, which looked large enough to land a large passenger transport with room to spare. He raised his spindly arms and motioned all around.

"Isn't it marvelous?" he asked. "Four hundred meters below the planet surface, right under the Jedi's very noses. It has witnessed the training of seven previous Sith Lords. It was constructed over two hundred years ago by Darth Lycan, the first in our line to recognize the Jedi's fatal weakness, the weakness I shall train _you_ to exploit."

"It is truly wonderful, Master," Palpatine gushed. "When do I get the honor of training here?"

"I am pleased to see that you are anxious to learn the ways of the Sith. But first," Plagueis held up a long bony finger, "you must learn the ways of the Force. The very basic skills common to Jedi and Sith alike."

"And you're certain I have the Force, Master?" While it was true that he'd always had an inkling, Palpatine wasn't sure he had any real _power_. Surely the Jedi would have discovered him and stolen him away as a child, wouldn't they?

Plagueis' long face became cold, his thin lips turned down in an angry scowl. "Do you believe I would waste my time, my _secret_, on someone with no power?" he snapped. "If I wasn't certain beyond certain that they were instrumental to the destruction of the Jedi Order?" His face softened a bit. "You are the most powerful being in the Force that I have ever felt," he said.

"I am?" Palpatine was bewildered.

"We shall see," said Plagueis, ominously. Across the room, three of the droids abruptly sprang to life, their eyes shone a demonic red and their heads snapped toward their master.

"Kill him," instructed the Sith Lord.

They responded to the command instantly, taking off with terrifying speed in a furious charge at the young man.

"What?" Palpatine cried in dismay. "_Kill me?_" The droids were fast approaching, their metal feet pounding loudly on the smooth stone floor. Palpatine saw razor sharp vibroblades affixed to their forearms, ready and waiting to slice him limb from limb. He was frozen, unsure what to do. His mind was a total blank and his insides turned to ice water. The first droid reached the boy and took a swing meant to separate his head from his shoulders. Without thinking, he ducked and rolled away from the droid.

"Use the Force to protect yourself!" Plagueis instructed.

"How? Tell me how!" Palpatine ran as fast as his legs would allow…right in the direction of the other two droids. He swore loudly, something rare to him. However, in this instance, he felt justified. He quickly changed directions, with all three droids in hot pursuit. They were just meters behind and quickly closing the gap. He had perhaps seconds before they caught him.

"I don't think I can do this, sir!" He cried out desperately. He had never been more terrified in his life and Damask—_Plagueis_—didn't seem to intend to step in to save him.

"Don't think, feel," the Muun called out. "Take stock of your surroundings, use them to your advantage. Envision yourself defeating your enemy. Let your fear work _for_ you, not against you. The Sith find great power in fear." Plagueis secretly worried about the boy. He wondered if he would stop the droids from killing the young man. Probably. The boy was far too valuable to simply let die so flippantly.

"I want to use the droid parts to hit them!" Palpatine cried. He was getting winded now, his chest heaving and heart pounding so hard he was sure it would explode. "How do I do that?" He was about to hit the wall, literally. In a few seconds he would reach the far wall and be cornered.

"See the parts," Plagueis instructed. "Clear your mind of everything except those parts. Visualize them rising from the floor to strike the droids."

The droids had caught up to Palpatine, who was now pressed flat against the wall as though attempting to somehow become integrated into the rock itself. One took a swing and again, Palpatine managed to duck out of the way of the singing blade. The droid's massive arm smashed the wall where his head had just been, knocking large chunks of rock to the floor. Small pebbles rained down on him. He saw an opening and rolled through the droids' legs, a move he silently congratulated himself for, and began sprinting again back in the direction from which he'd come. His eyes locked onto the scattered droid parts strewn about the floor several meters ahead, specifically a single razor-edged forearm. He pictured it rising from the floor, sailing over to the nearest droid and decapitating it. He went through the scenario again, head cleared. Still nothing. He was getting angry. He let his fear of the droids evolve into hatred. He hated them for trying to kill him. He hated that he was afraid. He hated Plagueis for unleashing them on him in the first place. He stopped in his tracks and closed his eyes, hearing the clomping footsteps behind him. He was just so ANGRY! He released a primal yell that seemed to come from his every pore; every fiber of his being screamed in fury.

A loud crash and three distinct thuds prompted him to open his eyes and look behind him. What he saw confused him; all three droids lay in twisted and smoking heaps on the floor not four meters from where he stood. All were unrecognizable. One leaked hydraulic fluid, which pooled like green blood on the polished stone floor.

"D-did _I_ do that?" Palpatine asked. He turned to where his new master stood—and saw the Muun indignantly picking himself up from the ground.

Plagueis brushed himself off and tried to regain his composure after that shock. "Indeed, you did," he said, somewhat shaken. "That was very, very impressive." He surveyed the chamber, several large cracks had appeared in the nearest wall, cause by the boy's rage burst. "There was absolutely no control, no focus. But, given the situation, it proved sufficient," he said as he motioned towards the still smoking mess of battered and crumpled metal.

Palpatine looked over at the droid bodies. He felt a grin creep across his cheeks. His breathing had returned to normal but sweat still rolled down his face.

"Can you teach me to do that again?" he asked eagerly.

Plagueis casually raised a hand and all three droids rose in the air. He made a fist and they were then smashed together and compacted into a ball hovering a meter off the ground. Small parts and fluid dropped from the ball, littering the floor.

"And so much more," Plagueis promised with a thin smile of his own.

The hallway was dark; museum-like exhibits lined either side, each display lit with its own glow lamp. The Emperor walked ahead of Leia, teaching.

"This," he said, walking over to a display and picking up an ancient curved lightsaber, "was the saber of Lord Darth Bane himself." The hilt was black and inscribed with golden glyphs. "He wrote the modern Sith Code more than a thousand years ago, the sole survivor of the Battle of Ruusan." He fingered the activator and the crimson blade sprang to life.

"Still functional," he purred almost to himself. He gave the saber a quick, experienced twirl before deactivating it and replacing it back on its pedestal.

"And here," he said, motioning across the hall to a tetrahedral object on a display stand, "is the first Sith holocron in known existence. It is over twenty-five thousand years old, older than the Jedi, older than the Republic." Pride filled his voice. "It was filled with Dark Side knowledge already ancient when the Jedi were in their infancy."

Leia's eyes wandered over the holocron's intricate crystalline structure. "Does it still work?"

The Emperor turned his gaze to her.

"See for yourself." He gently took the object and placed it in her hand. "Press your thumb to the side panel."

She did as she was told and a bright light issued from its core. A grainy hologram formed in the air above the holocron's apex. The blurred image focused and became a hooded figure. The form was human.

"Greetings," said the glowing figure. Its voice was deep, menacing, but also strangely inviting.

"I am Lord Karnage, keeper of the knowledge of the Bogan. What do you seek?" The figure stared directly at Leia. She could see its eyes glow faintly from within the deep shadows of its hood. The figure moved its hands up and lowered its hood, revealing long black hair and what looked to be pale blue skin. "My patience grows thin. What do you wish to know?" Leia cocked her head to the side, startled.

"I thought this was thousands of years old," she said. "Does it know I'm here?"

The Emperor grinned. "Holocrons are given imprints of the life essence of their creators. Think of it as a crude copy of their personality. It helps the user to navigate the vast amount of knowledge contained within." He pointed to the glowing object in her hand. "Ask it a question," prompted the old man.

Leia looked back at the hovering image. "Is the Dark Side stronger?"

When the image returned Leia's puzzled look, the Emperor stepped in. "She asks if the Bogan is more powerful than the Ashla," he said, using strange words that Leia was unfamiliar with. But the tiny avatar seemed to understand perfectly.

The image smiled. "Infinitely," it responded. "The Bogan harnesses powerful emotions. Emotions which the _Jhet'i_ fear. Anger, fear, aggression. These are the core emotions of the Bogan."

"But those are all bad emotions," said Leia.

"No," said the hologram firmly. "Emotions are neither good nor bad and are essential to wielding the power within you. These emotions should not be kept inside or purged, as the _Jhet'i_ would preach. The Bogan offers a conduit, a way to express these feelings as power. _Unlimited_ power."

"But power corrupts," countered Leia.

"Corruption comes not from power, but from individual beings," the avatar said wisely. "The _Jhet'i_ are more corrupt than the practitioners of the Bogan will ever be and yet they are weak. That is why the _Jhet'i_ will fall and the Bogan will one day rule the galaxy. The Bogan will always be present; every sentient being in the galaxy has within them a darkness which harbors it, feeds it, and maintains it. The brighter the Light, the darker the Shadow cast." With that, the hologram winked out and dark shadows rushed back over Leia's face.

"No," she said. "I don't believe it. The Dark Side can't be stronger." Leia was more conflicted now than ever before. She wasn't even sure her argument had any merit.

"Why is that, Your Highness?" asked the Emperor.

"Because the Sith…they're _evil_. I've no love for the Jedi, especially after several—_disturbing_—facts were brought to my attention. But their philosophy was one of peace, not war."

The Emperor chuckled. "You are quite wrong, Highness. The Sith seek the same goals as the Jedi: peace, order. Power. The Sith are not a warring people. However," he held up a finger, "we do not _fear_ war and sacrifice to reach our end." He gave a sigh. "We wish to rule, Princess. If we were as you say, killing without reason, who would we have left to rule over? Destruction is not in our best interest, despite what the Jedi may claim."

Leia lowered her head in concession, somewhat humbled by the Emperor's reasonable argument. "I-I never thought of that." The Rebellion was responsible for billions of deaths, all sacrificed for the Rebel cause. Could she honestly admit that they were really any different than the Sith in that regard? It seemed the only appreciable difference between the Sith and the Jedi was that the Sith reach out and grab what they desire without debate, without hesitation. The Jedi fear directness, instead relying on the Force for answers. They meditate, hoping for solutions to come to _them_ instead of creating their _own_.

Leia raised her head, beginning to understand the Sith philosophy a little more. "What else have you got to show me?"

The Emperor moved down to a bare section of wall and punched a code into a small keypad. A five meter long panel slid up, revealing a brightly lit display case filled with hundreds of lightsabers.

"Like the Jedi, a Sith's lightsaber is an extension of their very being," Palpatine instructed. "These are the sabers of over four hundred past Sith Lords. This," he said, indicating a hilt with seemingly _two_ pronged blade emitters, one sprouting from either end, "belonged to Lord Exar Kun, builder of the great pyramids of Yavin IV. And this one," he said, pointing to a hilt that looked to be fashioned from a creature's actual petrified arm, complete with splayed claws around the blade emitter, "This belonged to one of the most powerful Sith in recorded history, Naga Sadow." He swept his arm, indicating all of the sabers.

"Every weapon has a story. Each was the last thing a Jedi saw before their death and some, in turn, were felled by the Jedi." He walked to the end of the display case and reached for that very last saber. It was silver and bronze colored, with flowing curves and an artfully organic design. "All save this one." Palpatine looked at it warmly, as one would an old friend. "It has felled many Jedi, yet its master still lives."

Leia looked puzzled. "Alive? I don't under—" She stopped. "It's yours?"

"Yes," he said, nodding. "I nearly lost it the last time it sang. Luckily it was recovered. It disappoints me greatly that my duties as Emperor afford me little time to spar." He pressed the ignition button and red fire sprang from the emitter. The blade hummed with infinite power. It cast an eerie red glow on the Emperor's pallid face.

He extinguished the blade and replaced the hilt in the case. "I look forward to training you in the art of the saber," he said. "A master of the saber can make a fight look like a beautiful dance, so elegant is the weapon. I foresee you becoming a great saber artist." Leia couldn't help herself a smirk at the compliment.

She quickly wiped the smile from her face. "I still don't trust you," she said, ever defiant. "How do I know you won't use me for evil? Or more, gain my trust only to have me killed."

The Emperor smiled. He was pleased to have another intelligent pupil.

"My dear, if I had wanted you dead, I could have killed you the moment you stepped foot into my office without so much as blinking an eye. I give you my _word_, Princess."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "That's not good enough. I need more than just your word."

"Anything," said Palpatine simply. There was an odd infliction in his voice that caught Leia off guard.

"What do you mean, 'anything'?" She narrowed her eyes, trying to find the trick she knew had to be in the statement somewhere.

"I mean exactly that, Your Highness," the Emperor explained. "You want more than my word in return for your trust. I am telling you that you may have anything you desire if it will prove my sincerity."

"You must be joking," she said amazed.

"I assure you, Leia, I am _not_." The use of her name instead of her title struck Leia like a punch to the gut, so unexpected was it. "Anything you want is yours." The Emperor's tone was deadly serious. If he was deceiving her, she couldn't detect it.

"If I wanted Five Hundred Republica?" she asked.

"Yours." He looked into her eyes. "There's a secret training facility beneath the foundations that you might enjoy. Anything else?"

"Corellia," she said, searching for the line which he would stop her from crossing.

"The planet, the system, or the whole sector?" he asked.

"If you're not joking, then you must be insane!" Leia couldn't believe he'd give her an entire planet, an entire sector!

"I haven't lost my mind, Princess. I am merely trying to display my willingness to do whatever it takes to gain your trust. Would you like a Star Destroyer? Or an entire fleet, perhaps?"

Leia shook her head. She would see right now just how far he was willing to take this.

"The Death Star," she said finally. "I want the Death Star. That way, I can personally see that it doesn't destroy another planet."

"Ah, you refer to your Alderaan. A tragic loss. But a necessary one, I assure you," he said. "Until the Death Star was used, people had no reason to be intimidated by it."

"I think your message was clear, Your Majesty. I would like the Death Star," she repeated. "Then you will have my trust."

The Emperor was silent for a moment as he considered the proposal. Leia raised an eyebrow.

"Done," he said firmly. "I shall have it recalled to Coruscant immediately. It still requires completion anyhow."

"Recalled?" Leia asked. "From where?"

"Never you mind, Princess," Palpatine told her. "It was never going to be used. Its purpose is for intimidation."

Leia scoffed. "Looks like someone didn't get the memo. It destroyed Endor not a week ago." That thought brought back fresh pain. _Han_.

The Emperor nodded. "An exception to the rule, I assure you, Your Highness. Besides, it was a primitive moon orbiting a little-known world. Its loss will hardly be noticed." He turned away from Leia and began walking down the hallway once more. He motioned with his hand for her to follow. "Come, I've more to show you."

Darth Arisin's comm twittled. "Yes, Admiral?" he answered.

_"Sir, we're about to exit hyperspace. You wished to be informed, sir."_ Piett was the model officer. He was intelligent, loyal, unquestioning barring extreme circumstances, and he truly loved his job. He felt that he was doing real good in the galaxy, making it a safer place one Rebel at a time. He was proud of his job.

"I'll be right up." Arisin said as he started up towards the bridge.

Admiral Piett had been in the Navy since he was fresh out of his teens. At the time, the Republic was failing. There wasn't much of a military to speak of. He was in charge of patrolling the thousands of shipping lanes high above Coruscant. But as the Clone Wars developed, more and more non-clones were given commands in the Republic Fleet. He was given his own ship and thrust into battle. He commanded the _Venator_-class Republic Star Destroyer _Victory_ during the famous Battle of Coruscant. He and his ship survived the battle with the most CIS kills in the fleet. When Chancellor Palpatine established the Empire, all non-clone officers were allowed to transfer their Republic ranks over to the Imperial Navy. He'd risen through the ranks from Lieutenant Commander to Vice Admiral. He was now in command of more than half the Imperial Navy. He'd heard rumors of a supposed alien Grand Admiral possibly vying for more power, though, but he didn't pay them much mind.

Lord Arisin stepped onto the bridge and the admiral watched as he set right to work "feeling" for the next set of coordinates. Piett had to admit to himself that Skywalker—or _Arisin_—was a vast improvement over Vader. His crew was always constantly distracted whenever Vader was present, terrified that they might make a mistake in his presence and not live to make up for it. Piett felt that few on his crew had shed any tears over Vader's death.

Again, he saw Arisin enter a trance-like state, only to snap out of it with new coordinates seemingly plucked out of hard vacuum. _Lord Vader never did that._ _Though he'd kill us off if we took too frakking long._

Arisin entered the new numbers into the nav computer, put the ship into hyperspace, and made a dramatic exit from the bridge, cloak billowing out behind him. _Like father, like son there, though._

Piett stepped over to the navicomp. _Amazing_, he thought when he saw the new changes. _Even at half speed, we'll get there within the day._ Arisin would become popular with the crew if he kept this up much longer.

"Ensign Feyrl?" Piett walked over to the man's terminal.

"Yes, sir?" The ensign looked up at him.

"Approximately how long before we exit hyperspace?"

He checked his screens. "Along this present route, forty-seven minutes."

"And at our current rate, how long until we reach the Installation?"

"Well, sir, I don't know. At this rate, we'll reach the Maw in just under six hours. However, reaching the actual Installation will require a combination of microjumps and sublight travel. My best estimate, sir, would be," he paused to think. "Nine hours, give or take."

"Alright, thank you, Irnst. Keep me posted, will you?"

"Yes, sir, of course," Feryl nodded. "And you're welcome, sir." The man went back to his work and Piett continued his rounds about the bridge. He liked to believe he had the best, most efficient crew in the Fleet. As the flagship of the Navy, they had an example to set. With respect to efficiency, the only ship he could think of that even approached _Executor_ was the _Chimaera_, an _Imperial_-class Star Destroyer under the command of Gilad Pellaeon.

Piett sighed. A ship's captain really couldn't ask for a better crew. The Empire had been good to him. In the Old Republic, he would be approaching the mandatory retirement age. He didn't know what he'd do if he didn't have the Navy. He loved every second he stood on the bridge of a ship, feeling the soft vibrations underfoot. It made him feel alive to see the endless expanse of space when he looked out the main view ports. He felt exhilarated when in battle, defending the Empire from some enemy attack force. When Palpatine declared his Empire, he vowed it would stand for ten thousand years. Piett planned to ensure its survival for at least as long as he lived. What he didn't know, what he _couldn't_ know, was that one of his crew, the best crew in the galaxy, would stop at nothing to see that the Empire didn't survive another week.

"It is a fallacy to view the Force as a two-sided coin," the Emperor explained. "Look at it more as a linear scale." Palpatine sat in his private office. Leia sat across from him, listening to his teachings. "A scale of power. On the one end, there are the Jedi. Few had any _real_ power," he said. "They wouldn't _allow_ themselves the power of their potential. As you slide along the scale, you come across such Jedi as Jorus C'boath and Master Mace Windu. These are Jedi who understood the power of emotion, passion."

"Passion?" Leia asked. "The Jedi forbade _passion_?" Leia disliked the Jedi the more she heard about them.

"Given the truths you have recently learned about the Jedi, does this surprise you?" the Emperor asked. "They feared the power of these emotions; emotions, one could argue, which are central to our individuality. The Jedi who drifted to closely to the Dark Side were frightened by what they felt. But a few recognized the power." He clasped the arms of his throne with hands like pale spiders. "As you move further down the scale, you come across the Dark Jedi. These are individuals who understand the power of the Dark Side and are willing take advantage of it. The Clone Wars saw a number of Dark Jedi serving the Confederacy. The strongest was a woman by the name of Asajj Ventress. Your father confronted her on numerous occasions." He remembered Anakin telling him of the battles and the frustration he felt every time he failed to destroy her.

"Vader _wasn't_ my father," Leia said coldly. "So I imagine the other end of the scale would be you, yes?" She gave Palpatine a hard look as she rested her chin on steepled fingers.

Palpatine nodded. "Yes, Princess. On the other end of the scale you would find me." _Once broken, she will be a magnificent Hand. Absolutely fearless._

"So where do I fit in?" she asked.

"You are—uncertain" the Emperor responded carefully. "Your placement on the scale is entirely up to you, Princess. You have the power inside you, great power. But you must _want_ the power. _Need_ the power. You must _be_ the power. I can teach you to be great, but you must want to learn."

Leia sat in silence, thinking. After a moment, she responded. "I said I was yours and I am. Teach me. I _want_ to learn."

"Good." The Emperor smiled. "I am pleased you feel that way. I think we should begin with lightsaber training. It is a wonderful way to learn the sort of mental focus you will require to draw upon the Force."

"I don't have a lightsaber," Leia replied impatiently. "And even if I did, I wouldn't know how to use it."

"Which is why I will be instructing you, Your Highness," he said sharply. "And we will not be sparring; it will simply be an exercise. I have a collection of lightsabers available to you." He rose from his seat. "Follow me."

He led her into a different museum-like hallway. _Did they forget to install lighting in this part of the palace?_ Leia thought as her eyes took a moment to focus in the darkness. The Emperor pressed a switch and suddenly, the hallway was lit by exhibits that took up both sides of the hall. They were lined floor to ceiling with lightsabers, each meticulously labeled with age, previous owner, and blade color. _Trophies_, she thought with a shudder. There must have been thousands. The hall stretched on for at least a dozen meters ahead and three high.

"I can have any of these?" she asked as she tried to take them all in.

The Emperor nodded. "Choose any one you like," he said. "You will eventually construct your own, of course. But until then, an interim saber is necessary."

"Any one," she repeated to herself as she walked down the hall, perusing the hilts for the one that stood out above the rest. She was halfway through one side of the hall when one saber caught her eye. It was silver with gold accents and black grip. She read the small plaque below where it hung in the display:

**WINDU, MACE**

**AGE OF SABER WHEN RETIRED: APPROX. 12 YRS**

**RANK OF USER: JEDI MASTER**

**BLADE COLOR: PURPLE**

**SABER STYLE USED: VAAPAD**

**EXECUTIONER: SUPREME CHANCELLOR PALPATINE**

"This one," she said. "You killed him?"

"Oh, yes," he purred as the memory came flooding back. "Some of the Jedi Council had discovered that I was the Sith Lord they had been searching for for over a decade and took it upon themselves to assassinate me. They entered my office, four of them, allegedly some of the greatest swords in the Order. Three of them didn't walk out." He opened the display case and took the lightsaber gingerly into his hands. "Master Windu was powerful," he told her, a note of reverence working its way into his voice. "His style was most impressive." He handed the saber to Leia. "When he fought, he danced with the Dark Side. It allowed him to toe the lie without crossing it. But it wasn't enough." Leia ignited the saber, its violet blade freezing a meter in front of her. It surprised her how the blade, though weightless itself, seemed to give off a gyroscopic counter force against the hilt, giving it the illusion of heft. She gave it a test wave; it hummed as it burned through the air, leaving the distinct smell of scorched ozone. She felt the power, raw power, in her hands. She felt strong. She felt comfortable. _Good_. It was an extension of her arm. Though she couldn't yet wield the weapon, she felt that she was meant to.

"It feels good, doesn't it?" The Emperor smiled. He remembered wielding his first lightsaber…

"It is time, Apprentice. Let us hope it was constructed properly." Plagueis said wryly. "You wouldn't want it to explode, would you?"

Palpatine frowned. "I'm not sure I see the humor in that, Master." Just the same, he had to appreciate the potential irony in two of the most powerful Sith in history dying in a tragic lightsaber mishap. "Here it goes," he said to no one in particular. He thumbed the activator switch and the scarlet blade sprang to life. Hearing the hum, Palpatine smiled widely. "I did it."

"You have, indeed," said Darth Plagueis, who allowed himself some measure of pride at his pupil's accomplishment. "You have passed the final test. You will be named."

Palpatine's attention shifted from the glowing blade to his master's words. Excitement filled his voice. "Named? I-I'm a Dark Lord?"

Plagueis pulled back his thin lips in a smile more like a sneer. "Not quite. But you will be very soon. In this last year, you have grown powerful."

Palpatine held out a hand, blue energy arced between his fingers. "Yes," he said. "I have."

Plagueis frowned. "I have warned you against that, Apprentice. Overuse can lead to gross deformation. Use _only_ as a last resort." It was already clear that Palpatine favored the powerful Force lightning. Plagueis felt rather than knew outright that the boy would, in fact, be more dangerous _without_ a lightsaber than with. His mastery of the Force and quick advancement amazed and frightened Plagueis. It was typical of the Apprentice to kill the Master once becoming more powerful. Plagueis didn't intend to let Palpatine advance quite that far. _Not yet, anyway._

Palpatine stemmed the energy flowing from his cupped hand. "What will I be called?" he asked. "What is my—"

"—Sith name?" asked Leia. "You obviously gave it up." Her saber was now in her hand, dormant.

"My Sith name," said the Emperor. "My _true_ name, is Sidious. Though you are quite right, Princess," he said in a somewhat morose tone that surprised Leia. "In a way I have been forced to abandon Darth Sidious in favor of a more public face. Though do not think even for a moment that I have given up on the Dark Side or the Sith arts. I believe you know better than that."

"No, of course not, _Your Majesty_," Leia said with exaggerated courtesy.

"You know, Princess, my patience for your insubordination is not unlimited." Upon speaking the last word, Leia's entire right hand erupted in pain. Every nerve fired in a sensation akin to getting stuck with a million needles. The pain was indescribable. "You see, I have other, less permanent ways of dealing with your sharp tongue. I do not need to damage you to inflict pain."

Leia gritted her teeth against the blinding pain. She dropped to her knees, dropping the lightsaber and grabbing her hand by the wrist. If she couldn't see her unmolested limb with her own eyes, she would think it had been doused in molten lead. She squeezed her eyes shut until tears streamed down her cheeks. "I-I'm s-sorry," she managed to get out.

"To whom are you addressing?" asked the Emperor, not releasing Leia from her torment.

She was confused a moment, then understood. "Master," she grunted. At once, the pain stopped. It ended as abruptly and completely as it had begun. She picked up the saber hilt from where it had dropped.

"You'll soon learn some respect, Princess. Lord Vader may have put up with your jabs, but I assure you, I am somewhat less forgiving. You are very valuable to me, yes, but I can inflict pain greater than what you've just experienced without causing any permanent physical damage. You will wish yourself dead, but be very much alive and well for as long as I choose to allow." His yellow eyes flashed in the dim light; anger shone in those eyes. She thought they almost glowed. She knew she had crossed the line this time. "Is that understood, Princess?"

She nodded, not making eye contact.

"Say it," commanded the Emperor.

"Yes, I understand." She saw him give her a look. "_Master_."

"Good. I would hate for our relationship to become unpleasant." He moved towards the exit of the hall of sabers. "Come," he said. "There is a room this way in which we may begin your exercises."

She hated how he kept doing that, taking off then ordering her to follow.

She followed.

They soon entered a great vaulted chamber. It was roughly circular, perhaps twenty meters in diameter. The ceiling rose at least ten meters. The room was completely bare; no windows, no banners, no equipment. It looked very much like the inside of a starship's interior. There was a large circle drawn in the exact center of the vast room. This is where the Emperor now stood, waiting.

Leia walked into the circle and stood opposite of Palpatine.

"Now," he said. "Ignite your saber." She thumbed the activator switch and the violet blade issued from the emitter with a _snap-hiss_.

"Okay," she said. "Now what?"

"Swing at me," he instructed.

"What?" Leia wasn't sure she heard right.

"Come at me. Strike me down." He smiled. "If you believe you can."

Had he lost his mind? However, she did as she was told. She took three fast steps, swinging hard into the fourth. As her blade bore down onto the old man, it swiped through empty space. "What?"

"Over here, Your Highness." The Emperor's voice came from behind her. How did he get back there? She saw him in front of her not seconds ago. He'd disappeared before her eyes!

She whirled around, swinging wit all of her strength. Again, the blade sliced through empty air.

"Do not rely on you senses. They can deceive you." It was Palpatine's voice, but it seemed to issue from every corner of the room. She spun in a complete circle, looking for the old man. He was nowhere to be seen. A cold, corpse-like hand clasped her throat from behind. "See through the Force." Leia froze; she didn't even dare to breathe.

She swallowed hard, the icy hand still clutching her throat. Finding her voice, she said, "Teach me how."

The hand released its hold. "Stretch out with your mind," the Emperor told her. "Let the hum of the blade take you to a heightened sense of awareness." His voice still rang out eerily from everywhere yet nowhere. She looked around, still not seeing him.

"Look with your mind, not your eyes. They will fool you."

She listened to the hum of the energy blade; the constant tone _did_ help her to focus her mind. She closed her eyes, mentally envisioning the room. She allowed her mind to seep into every square centimeter. She could "see" the room with perfect clarity. She saw _him_. He stood a meter to her left. She took a deep breath and she swung.

"My Lord, we are about to exit hyperspace. Did you want to come up to the bridge?" Piett spoke into his comm. After a short pause, Arisin's voice answered back.

_"No. I'll give you the next set of numbers from here._" There was another pause as Arisin pulled the numbers from the Force. _"Input these numbers." _A series of number began scrolling across the nav screen, sent from the computer terminal in Lord Arisin's quarters: .38.27.18. The navigation officer scrambled to plug the numbers into the hyperdrive computer._ "That should take us close enough to use sublight engines the rest of the way,"_ Arisin said._ "If there are any complications, contact me. I'll be in my quarters. Arisin, out."_

Piett replaced the comm in his breast pocket and watched over the man's shoulder as the new coordinates were entered. The moment the ship reentered realspace, he initiated the hyperdrive. The stars reverted back to pinpoints for a fraction of a second before they elongated back into the hyperspace tunnel. _Beautiful_.

Arisin was in his quarters. _Vader's quarters_, he reminded himself. They were spacious, nearly identical to those onboard the Death Star. Plenty of room to drill. He unhooked his lightsaber and threw it overhand as hard as he could. He caught it with his mind and hurled it in another direction, and again he caught it. For ten minutes, this exercise continued, honing his accuracy and fine control. Satisfied, he moved from precision to strength.

The chambers hadn't yet been remodeled for him and still contained Vader's garish black hyperbaric chamber. The large spherical pod dominated the room. _Let's do something about that ugly thing._

He held out a hand and focused hard on the pod. Metal fasteners began to squeal in protest. Its supports buckled and shrieked as the pod was ripped away in one violent heave. Arisin held it there, suspended aloft. Then he raised the pressure around the pod. Its spherical design would allow it to withstand great forces, so he immersed himself in the Dark Side and dug deep, enclosing the pod in a powerful Force grip, squeezing it tighter and tighter. The ebony shell began to give way in one area, very slightly. That was all that was needed. With the surface integrity compromised, the pod's strength began to collapse in a rapid chain reaction. The dent grew larger and larger until suddenly, the entire pod imploded, crumpling into an unrecognizable hulk. It continued to float peacefully in Arisin's grip half a meter above the deck. With one last surge of the Force, he hurled what remained of the pod back against the far wall. The sound of metal smashing metal filled the room and the floor shook with the impact. _Perfect_, he thought, pleased with himself.

At once, the comm was flashing beside the door. He activated it with a flick of the wrist.

A man's voice came through the speaker.

_"Lord Arisin? Is everything alright? We recorded a disturbance coming from your quarters." _

"Everything is fine. Just…redecorating," he answered with a smirk.

_"Alright, sir."_ The connection was broken and Arisin went back to his drills.

He decided to test the limits of his Force awareness. He closed his eyes and blanketed himself in the Force. He surrounded himself in a bubble of awareness, familiarizing himself with everything within it. He then expanded the bubble slowly, first to encompass the entire room, then extending into the hallway outside. He felt several officers walk by, felt their loyalty, their minor boredom, and one man's mild hunger. He expanded the bubble further. He touched the minds of dozens of crew, then hundreds. The bubble eventually encompassed the entire ship. He was connected to thousands of minds, each of them resolutely loyal to the Empire. All save one.

This puzzled him. _A Rebel? Here?_ He focused harder on that one mind. He felt deception, disgust and hatred for the Empire. There was apprehension there, too, anxiety over something. _Sabotage?_ He couldn't tell. Arisin decided to take it upon himself to root out the traitor himself. Whoever it was, he couldn't imagine a lone Rebel on a ship this size could be overly dangerous. While he and his friends had managed to pull of some miraculous stunts in the past, he realized now that he had had the Force on his side. The average Rebel operative didn't have the skill to take down a Super Star Destroyer without backup. And Arisin was certain that the Rebel was working alone on the ship. The Rebel could wait; Arisin would find him eventually.

He expanded his bubble to again encompass the whole ship, once again touching the minds of everyone aboard. He decided to try something. Still connected to their minds, he concentrated on making them all stop what they were doing. He opened their minds to his suggestion. He implanted the idea, nurtured it, let it grow. He sensed, suddenly, everyone stop.

He gritted his teeth against the mental strain; sweat poured from his brow but he was determined to see how far he could press himself. Maintaining the connection, he suggested they all raise one leg. He felt widespread confusion as many tried to fight against the strange compulsion that seemed to have gripped their minds, but ultimately Arisin's suggestion received complete compliance. He laughed now as he remembered something Obi-Wan had told him: _The Force can have a strong influence on the weak-minded._ Enough was enough. He released his hold and disconnected himself from the crew, chest heaving with the effort he'd expended.

He took the comm from his belt and called the bridge.

_"Piett, here."_ The admiral's tone was odd and Arisin could hear muted conversation in the background.

"How long until we exit hyperspace?" the Dark Lord asked.

_"Uh,"_ there was a pause, _"Approximately thirteen minutes, sir."_

"Good," said Arisin. "I take it everything is running smoothly?" He had to ask.

Piett didn't answer at first. "Admiral?"

_"Yes, sir. Uh, there was something, sir."_ He cleared his throat. _"Everyone on the bridge froze and then, uh, w-we…raised a, uh, leg in the air, sir."_

Arisin stifled a laugh. "That's very interesting," he said, trying to sound serious despite the tickle in his throat.

_"I was about to start sending people to the infirmary,"_ Piett informed him.

"I wouldn't bother," Arisin told him. "It doesn't sound serious so long as everything has returned to normal. I'm coming up."

_"Alright, sir."_ Piett sounded confused. But who was he to question his superior? Particularly one who happened to be a Sith Lord. He was content with being confused.

Arisin arrived on the bridge ten minutes later, having taken his time to gauge the crew's response to his experiment. All he heard during his short trip was talk of the momentary loss of bodily control amongst the crew. Arisin had to smile as he overheard snippets from the various conversations. He would have to remember to tell the Emperor.

All conversation ceased the moment Arisin strode through the bridge doors. He was getting tired of making the trip back and forth between the bridge and his quarters. They had to be nearing their destination by now. This time he'd just stay until they reached the Installation.

"We're about to revert back to realspace now, sir," said Piett, walking over to Arisin.

Arisin clasped his hands behind his back and stared out the view screens and the colorful light display beyond, the chaotic and beautiful dimension known as hyperspace. "Good," Arisin said. "We can reach the Installation with sublight engines from then on." He stepped over to the bridge command chair and sat down like a king upon his throne. "Once we come out of hyperspace, transfer manual helm control to me. I'll take us in myself."

"As you wish, sir." Piett bowed. _Lord Vader never did _that_ either._ The new Dark Lord hadn't stopped surprising him since the admiral had learned of his defection over Endor.

It was only months ago that Luke Skywalker had been confirmed to be Lord Vader's son, though he suspected many of the higher-ups had known for considerably longer. It didn't take a degree in hyperspace mechanics for Piett to deduce from that the fact that Vader was in fact the fallen Jedi Knight Anakin Skywalker, one-time hero of the Republic. He'd been known during the Clone Wars as the best starpilot in the galaxy. _So why didn't Vader ever pilot the bloody ship?_

Arisin snapped his head round to look at the admiral. "Piett?"

"Yes, sir?" He instantly regretted his last thought.

"I just sensed something disturbing from you. Contempt. Is there something you'd like to say?" Arisin's eyes bored into Piett's, probing his mind with the Force.

Piett began to sweat. Like Vader, Arisin couldn't be lied to. So Piett told the truth.

"I was privately noting how Lord Vader never did what you are doing, My Lord." He answered. "Finding quicker routes and flying the ship personally, I mean. I must admit, sir, I was not your father's biggest fan, despite owing my current rank to his…temper." He stopped, swallowing hard.

"Go on," prompted Arisin, his expression unreadable. Still those yellow eyes were locked onto the admiral's.

"Well, sir, to be perfectly honest, he was a distraction. Everyone was terrified to be around him, he spent all his time allowing others to do the work so he could take the credit, and I personally found him a disgrace to the Empire and everything it stands for. 'Safety, Security, Justice, and Peace.' That is our motto and the words I live by whilst I serve aboard these ships. But when Vader was present, there was an obvious lack of all four." Piett was going for broke; he was finally saying what he'd wanted to say for years. His crew looked from him to Arisin in stunned silence, a combination of horror and reverence.

Arisin looked hard at Piett; his eyes of flame seemed to glow. Finally, he spoke. "Is that all?"

Piett cleared his throat. "It is, sir. I'm sorry for my outburst. It won't happen again."

Arisin smiled. "Nonsense, Admiral," he said, to the surprise of everyone present. "Every word you just said was absolutely true. I'm sorry you all," he stood, gesturing around the bridge, "had to put up with my father's…bad habits. I promise that you'll never need to feel that kind of fear around me." He turned back to look at Piett. "I like you, Admiral. If I have my way, you'll be in white someday very soon."

Piett dropped his jaw in surprise. "I-I don't know what to say," the admiral sputtered. "Thank you, sir. It would be an honor to serve as Grand Admiral. I hope I can live up to the title."

"You already do, Admiral," Arisin assured the man. "It's just time someone noticed."

The entire bridge erupted in applause. Cheers and kind words were thrown Piett's way. Arisin activated the ship-wide intercom from his command chair.

"All personnel; this is Lord Arisin. From this moment on, Vice Admiral Piett is promoted to the rank of Grand Admiral for his exemplary command and utter loyalty to the Empire and everything it represents." Applause could be heard from the hallway outside the bridge. Never before had he seen a crew so dedicated to their commander. Arisin switched off the intercom and stepped over to the stunned man. "Congratulations, Admiral. I know you'll continue doing the Empire proud."

Piett couldn't contain his pride. "Thank you, sir. I will serve this Empire until my dying breath."

"I have no doubt of that. Now, everyone, back to your duties. Ensign," he turned to face a young officer sitting at a nav console. "Take us out of hyperspace and give me the helm."

"Yes, sir," said the officer, a proud smile on his face. Vader's replacement had lifted the spirits of the entire crew.

Over the course of the next three hours, Arisin sat in the bridge commander's chair, expertly maneuvering the ship deep into the Maw through manual controls built into the throne-like device. The accretion discs of several black holes loomed ominously out the forward viewscreens. If the massive ship strayed too close to any of them, the result would be nothing short of devastating. To an outside observer, the ship would be drawn into the black hole's event horizon relatively quickly. But to the crew aboard, time dilation would stretch that to hours or even days. It would be a terrible death for a magnificent ship and a fine crew.

Finally, the Installation was in sight, an artificial speck in the far distance which grew larger with every heartbeat. It looked to be built on and within a large, planet-sized chuck of rock, with a series of smaller asteroids orbiting at various altitudes. Arisin surmised that it was the broken moon of some forgotten planet long since dead, brought here decades ago so that the then-Supreme Chancellor Palpatine could build his superweapons away from the prying eyes of the Republic Senate. As the Installation grew larger in the viewscreen, something peculiar began rising over the far horizon. The nearer they closed in, the more it started to take shape until the structure could finally be identified. It was a Death Star. Its shape was unmistakable, though this appeared to be a mere skeleton; it was a fully unshelled superstructure, complete with planet-cracking superlaser. It looked to Arisin to be more of a proof-of-concept prototype than a practical battle station.

The bridge speakers came alive with static, and then a Coruscanti accent spoke. "_Super Star Destroyer _Dark Hand_, identify yourself and explain your presence here immediately_."

Piett answered quickly. "This is Admiral Piett here with Lord Arisin. We've been sent by the Emperor himself."

"_There must be some mistake. We're expecting the _Executor," the man responded.

"This is her," Piett assured him. "We had a name change en route. You can match our drive signatures to those on record for the _Executor._"

"_I see_," said the voice, sounding skeptical. "_I'll need proper code clearance before we can allow you to proceed_."

Arisin took over the comm. "This is Darth Arisin. The Admiral's word should be clearance enough," he said firmly, adding a touch of the Force to his words. "And if you see a problem with that, then perhaps I should contact Coruscant and see what the Emperor has to say."

There was a long pause on the other end, then, "_You are clear for orbit. Transmitting coordinates now_."

Fear is often the most successful form of negotiation. "Thank you. Arisin out." He stood. "Admiral, if you'd like to take her in, I'll go prepare for my extended stay on the surface."

"I'd be honored to, sir," said Piett as he took the helm.

Fifteen minutes later, Arisin was shuttling down to the Installation. The facility was far more complex that he had initially thought; dozens of smaller asteroids were all linked to the main body by pylons, bridges, and tubes so that the whole thing looked rather like a massive spider's web. The landing pad wasn't actually inside the Installation, but rather on the surface, protected by an energy shield just large enough to encompass the landing area and the entrance to the Installation. The shuttle shuddered lightly as it passed through the shield. It landed gracefully, wings folding up to the sides. Through the viewport, he saw a small entourage waiting to meet him at the foot of the boarding ramp.

"Greetings, Master Arisin. I am Chief Supervisor Karlist Grath." The Dark Lord recognized this as the man he had spoken with over the comm. "We received word only yesterday that you were coming and actually didn't expect you to arrive for nearly another day; I hope that our accommodations will be up to your standards."

"Chief Grath, I'm certain they won't be," Arisin responded icily. "But then, we must all make sacrifices when the occasion calls for it, mustn't we?"

Grath paled. "Y-yes, Master Arisin. I suppose you're right. Uh, let me introduce our head of security, Janus Halcyon." He motioned to the man standing stiffly at his left. "And this," he motioned to the right, "is the mastermind behind many of our projects here. May I introduce Bevel Lemelisk."

Arisin looked hard at the man, who bowed respectfully. He was an older man, slightly overweight but somehow simultaneously appearing emaciated and underfed. His wild grey hair looked as though it hadn't been brushed in days and he was very pale and appeared slightly malnourished. Arisin had heard that dedicated scientists have been known to go days without food or sleep. He wondered how long it had been since this man had allowed himself either.

"Master Lemelisk," said Arisin. "I take it that the Death Stars are your handiwork?" He raised an eyebrow in inquiry.

"Oh, yes, sir, they certainly are," he said proudly, standing up just a little straighter. "Aren't they magnificent? So beautiful in their designs. The sphere is the strongest shape in nature, you know. It can withstand enormous pressures without buckling and it is the shape all matter coalesces into once its mass exceeds a certain point." This Lemelisk person was clearly very passionate about his work, almost obsessively so. As he listened to the man gush about his work, Arisin sensed something strange about him, something…off.

"After the destruction of the first Death Star over Yavin, something I hear you are credited with, His Majesty chastised me terribly," Lemelisk pressed on, oblivious to the nervous expressions of his two colleagues. "Fed me to a swarm of piranha beetles he'd rescued from what should have been certain death on Yavin IV." He finally paused a moment, the memory apparently too painful. He began to rock back and forth gently, as if he were soothing a child after a nightmare.

All at once the strangeness Arisin sensed made sense. "You're a clone," he said bluntly with a measure of surprise. Although cloning technology had existed for millennia, it was a taboo practice to say the least. Its reputation was only made all that much worse after the Clone Wars. Certain species depended on cloning to propagate their civilizations, but cloning amongst Humans was almost unheard of these days.

Lemelisk looked up, somewhat surprised. "Yes, sir. In fact, this is my seventh. The Emperor finds it…motivating…to punish my failures with exotic executions before somehow transferring my consciousness to a waiting clone body." He shuddered. "One would think that after being lowered into molten copper, one would scoff at lesser deaths, but none will ever quite be like that first time. The beetles, they took nearly an hour to cause enough damage for me to pass away, you see. By comparison, my other executions were merciful. But being eaten alive piece by piece…" The old man gave Lord Arisin a sideways glance, suddenly suspicious. "He isn't displeased with my work, is he?" he asked. "The Death Star? It has performed to expectations?"

Arisin shook his head. "The Emperor didn't send me to execute you again," he said. "He sent me here to put you back on schedule." _Consciousness transfer? Interesting…_

"Oh," Lemelisk said simply, looking noticeably relieved at the news.

"I think it's about time you showed me around," Arisin said to the men. "Don't you think?"

"Yes!" Grath cried. "Of course, My Lord! Please, come with us and see all that we have cooked up for our glorious Empire!"

In a flash of violet and a squeal of energy, the blade connected with another lightsaber. The Emperor grinned, wielding a lightsaber of his own, now very much visible.

"Excellent!" he praised. "Let the Force be your senses. Use them to locate your prey; if you maintain your focus on them, you will see through any disguise or illusion they throw your way." He pushed hard on Leia's saber and the two disconnected. Leia saw that the crimson blade in his hands was his own.

"Wait a minute!" Leia cried out in surprise. "I watched you put that back in the case!"

He chuckled. "Did you?" he asked coyly and deactivated it, holding it out to her. She extinguished her own blade, reaching for the Emperor's. Just as she was closing her fingers around the hilt, it vanished with a _pop_ and she grabbed empty air.

She jumped back, startled and ready to reignite her blade. Then it, too, vanished from her hand.

"What's going on here?" Leia cried out. She despised the look of enjoyment on Palpatine's face.

"It is a very rare and difficult power," he told her. "One which takes many, many years to master. It involves folding space to move matter from one point to another almost instantaneously. You'll find that both sabers are now back in their protective cases, safe and sound."

"Is that what you were doing just now?" Leia asked. "When I couldn't see you? You were 'folding' yourself?"

The Emperor gave a little nod. "So quick to catch on, Princess. Yes, part of the time, I was employing that technique to avoid your sight."

"What about when you weren't in the room at all?" She knew there had been times when he couldn't have just been _behind_ her. When she heard his voice call out from every corner of the room, she _knew_ that he wasn't there. She'd looked around pretty fast. There were times that he just wasn't there.

"Oh, I was here," Palpatine assured her. "You just didn't see me. I was bending the light around me, altering your perception, suggesting to your mind that I was not there. All of these extraordinary powers are but morsels of what the Dark Side of the Force can offer you. I do not think it will disappoint you."

"And you can teach me to do all of that?" she asked.

Palpatine nodded. "In time, that and so much more," he promised. "I think you had better get some rest. Your training starts in full tomorrow. I shall arrange to have a room made available to you. I trust you can find your way back to my office?"

She nodded and left the shriveled and shrunken figure of an old man standing alone in the center of the training room.

Palpatine stood with eyes closed, testing the currents of the Force to see if he could catch a glimpse of the princess' future in service to the Empire. He didn't see the small figure appear in the room in front of him.

"Won, you have not, Emperor," said a strange little voice.

Palpatine's eyes snapped open. Before him, the glowing and semi-transparent spirit of Jedi Master Yoda stood glaring up at him, a shimmering blue echo of the being he had once been in life.

"Master Yoda," the Emperor croaked, hiding his shock at having not been able to sense the Jedi spirit. "What a pleasant surprise. I see you have died." He narrowed his eyes. "What a pity. Our last encounter was so very _invigorating_."

"Become one with the Force, I have," Yoda growled. "Something _you_ can never accomplish, it is."

Palpatine scoffed. "Please, Master Yoda, a Jedi legend. Sith spirits have inhabited worlds steeped in the Dar Side for millennia. Besides, I needn't become one with the Force to live forever." He glared down at the diminutive Jedi ghost.

"Think you have won, you do, in turning the twins. But wrong, you are," Yoda told the Emperor. "Others, there will be, born to the Force."

"And just how did you come to that conclusion, my incorporeal little friend?" Palpatine taunted.

"Corporeal, I may not be," responded the Jedi Master, "but without strength, I am not." He held up a ghostly hand and the Emperor was sent flying. In an imitation of his previous move in his office, Palpatine managed to kick off the far wall instead of smashing into it. He landed on all fours and whipped his head up, snarling at the Jedi spirit.

He stood up and with a violent gesture, used the Force to rip free a wall panel and send it sailing toward Yoda. The panel passed straight through the little Jedi, crashing against the far wall.

"Hurt me, you cannot, Emperor. But hurt you, I can." Palpatine was shoved again, this time hitting the wall behind him. The impact sent a sharp flash of pain up and down the old man's back; although unequalled in his knowledge of the Force and more physically capable than most men his age, Palpatine was still an eighty-six year old Human.

Despite this, he recovered quickly. "That's a nice trick," he puffed as the pain fed the Dark Side boiling beneath his skin. "Leave it to a Jedi to be a menace from beyond the grave."

"A menace, the Jedi were not," Yoda countered. "A _disease_, the Sith are." Yoda scrunched his glowing face into a glower.

"Ah, yes, the close mindedness of the Jedi," the Emperor spat. "Did it ever occur to you that the Sith and the Jedi were not so very different?"

"A big difference, there is, between the two." Yoda shimmered brightly in the dim light. Palpatine saw how old he had gotten since they last confronted one another. Those two decades had taken their toll on them _both_. Only Yoda was dead and the Emperor was still very much alive.

Palpatine pressed on, allowing his momentum to steamroll whatever argument the Jedi Master may have attempted to make. "Both factions desire order from chaos and both covet the power of the Force. Only the Sith never feared to quest after _both_. We take command of our power and use it to affect _change_. You Jedi have always sat in your temples and your enclaves and hoarded the power. You lock yourselves away and wait for pathways to open to you; the Sith forge their _own_."

"Forged with pain, suffering, _death_, those pathways are," Yoda countered. "A Jedi seeks knowledge, not rule. Selfless was our order; servants of the Republic and the Light, we were. Servants of chaos, the Sith are."

"The galaxy is again basking in peace!" Palpatine sneered. "The Jedi never could understand that when the goal is important enough, the ends justify the means. Now, if you'll kindly vanish, I've a rebellion to clean up after." Palpatine glared back at the tiny figure standing before him.

"A better idea, I have." Yoda raised both hands and the Emperor was plucked off his feet, rising a meter off the floor. He clawed at his throat and the little Jedi's grip tightened. A look of triumph crossed the Jedi's transparent face. Palpatine's adopted one of pure rage.

He wrapped himself in the Dark Side and released a wave of malevolent energy in every direction. It exploded out with terrific concussive force, denting the floor directly below him and causing the closest walls to glow red-hot. Yoda's grip was broken and Palpatine dropped into the shallow crater in the tile. He looked up and snarled, throwing the Jedi Grand Master a glare that would stop a rancor in its tracks. His eyes literally glowed with anger.

Yoda tried again to shove Palpatine across the room. Palpatine raised a hand, as though he were half-heartedly swatting an annoying insect, and the Force blow was deflected to impact the floor beside him, sending tile chips flying up into the air. Yoda's eyes widened and his mouth gaped open it horror.

"Hurt me, you cannot," Palpatine echoed Yoda's words mockingly, "but hurt _you_, I can." He closed his eyes and called upon the full power of the Dark Side. He had been studying the little beast and understood how to defeat him now.

"What?" Yoda yelped in surprise as a violent wind began to blow. And it tugged not at the Emperor's robes, but at his own. "But, do this, you cannot! Impossible, it is!"

A swirling vortex formed at the center of the room, a tiny black hole, a tear in the fabric of reality. It resembled the swirl of Sith spirits back on Korriban. Yoda struggled to remain rooted to the physical plain. His spirit, his essence, began to stretch toward the Dark vortex.

"Though failed, I have, won, you have not!" Yoda yelled before finally succumbing to the ethereal winds. He disappeared into the event horizon and all was at once quiet. The Emperor glanced around the room. _Silent as a tomb_, he thought. _Good._

That awesome display of power had severely taxed his strength. He needed to rest. Slowly, very slowly, he wound back through the hallways and corridors to the meditations chamber adjacent to his office.

Palpatine was brought out of his deep meditation hours later by a most annoying beeping. He waved his hand.

A holo-image formed above his desk. It was Lord Arisin.

"Master, we've reached the Installation," the Sith Lord informed the Emperor. "I'm about to shuttle down to the surface."

The Emperor stood from his throne, his old joints creaking as he did so. "Very good."

"One more thing, Master." The young Sith looked apprehensive.

Palpatine raised an eyebrow. "Yes, Lord Arisin?"

"I've given Admiral Piett a field promotion," he told the Emperor. "He has shown absolute loyalty to the Empire and runs the most efficient crew in the Fleet. I thought he deserved to be elevated to the rank of Grand Admiral."

"Grand Admirals are to be appointed by no one other than myself, Lord Arisin," Palpatine said sharply. "Do you presume to have better judgment than I?"

"Of course not, Master." Arisin said at once, lowering his head in submission.

"You're certain his loyalty is without question?" Palpatine asked after a moment's pause.

Arisin looked up. "Absolutely, Master."

"Then the promotion shall be made official upon your return," the Emperor said at last, to Arisin's relief.

"Thank you, Master. I promise, he won't disappoint you."

"Admiral Piett has yet to disappoint anyone," Palpatine said. "He is an asset to the Fleet. Even your father held him in high esteem, and he had little but disdain for most military officers in the Empire."

"I'll contact you again when I've something to report, Master." With a bow, the transmission ended and the image blinked out.

Palpatine pressed a button in the arm of his chair. "Sate, show the princess into my office and have an open-air speeder brought to my shuttle bay in ten minutes. A pilot won't be necessary and inform the guards not to follow."

_"At once, Your Majesty."_

Within a quarter of an hour, the odd couple was soaring through traffic lanes high above the glittering city below, Princess Leia sitting in the pilot's seat. The Emperor had insisted that he and Leia went alone. His security staff had tried to argue but ultimately they knew that the Emperor would have his way no matter what and woe to the being who tries to stand in his way.

Leia flew expertly through the lanes, simply meandering around the Government District waiting for the Emperor's instruction. He spoke finally after they had traveled a significant distance from the palace.

"Today you will hone your awareness on an even greater scale. Yesterday, you sensed me in a small room. Today, you will sense them," he said, gesturing at the millions of speeders and air transports stretching from one horizon to the other as far as the eye could see.

"What are you going to do, push me out and have me dodge speeders as I fall?" Leia asked, unable to keep her dry wit to herself.

"Not exactly." Before she could react, the Emperor reached over and injected something into her neck with a small hypospray. A moment later, blackness washed over her.

"I can't see!" she cried out in alarm. "What in Stars' End did you do to me?" Leia yelled angrily, rubbing her eyes and desperately trying to get her sight to return.

"I have blinded you," the Emperor said simply. "You needn't worry. The effect is only temporary."

"Yeah, I figured that much out for myself, Your Majesty," Leia growled. "_Why_ did you blind me?" She could hear speeders zipping by. Their own speeder rocked gently in their wake.

"_Kal nock shal kree!_" she heard someone swear as they had to swerve around the stalled vehicle.

"Because I cannot trust you to simply keep your eyes closed for the exercise. Do not question my teachings, embrace them," he scolded.

"Fine," Leia relented. She was still fuming that she hadn't been warned of her impending blindness but there was little should could do now besides listen to the Emperor's instructions. "What do you want me to do?"

"Fly," he told her.

"That's it? Just fly? Well gee, I thought this was going to be difficult," she said sarcastically. "Just how am I supposed to fly in Coruscant traffic if I can't see?"

"Use the Force, girl," the Emperor said sharply. "And do try your best to not get us killed. You must feel your way around through the Force. Know every speeder, every transport, every building. I can sense the fear in you; that is good. Use it; command it to work for you. Create a mental map of your surroundings."

"I'll try." She began to accelerate.

"No," the Emperor said so abruptly that it startled the princess. "Trying to win loses the war. Be confident. _Do_."

"Yeah," she said softly to herself. "Right." She took off, weaving through the heavy traffic. Although she couldn't sense the speeders themselves, with the Force, she was able to detect the presences of their pilots and so roughly map out their positions relative to her own. She swerved just in time to avoid a head on with a large speeder. Its pilot screamed. She smiled. _This may be fun after all._

She pulled the speeder hard to the right then dove sharply in a maneuver that would have been more appropriate for an X-wing than a personal transport. She punched the accelerator, diving at a steep angle. She heard Palpatine grunt softly as he was thrown back against his seat. Reaching out with the Force, she sensed a Mass Transport coming straight for them, filled with hundreds of individual minds. She leveled out the speeder and continued on course straight for it. She'd let Palpatine sweat a little. She could feel the MassTrans drawing closer. She wished she could see the look on the old man's face. The ship was now just seconds away from turning their speeder into just another bug smashed on the wind screen. Waiting until the last possible moment, she accelerated even more and pulled up abruptly, literally scraping the top of the MassTrans. Expecting to hear the Emperor gasp, she was disappointed when he began cackling and saying "Good, good!"

As soon as she felt they were clear of the transport, she took them into another brain-mashing dive; this time she took the speeder straight down. She found that she almost _could_ see the buildings and other speeders flashing by as they dropped like a stone through hundreds of layers of traffic. She managed a few rolls out of the speeder, which certainly wasn't designed for such maneuvers under normal circumstances. Taking all of her anger and annoyance at the Emperor and letting it fuel her, she could sense everything around her, and it was getting clearer all the time.

She continued the dive until she was certain they were entering the Coruscant underworld. She could sense thousands of primitive minds carefully watching them. _Cthons?_ she wondered.

Cthons were a myth, or so she'd always been told. They were said to be humanoid creatures, possibly even coming from Human stock, which had evolved over millennia of living in Coruscant's perpetually dark lower levels. There were parts of the shining jewel that hadn't seen natural light in nearly a thousand centuries. Said to be pale, blind, and cannibalistic, Cthons were the subject of horror stories told across the galaxy for millennia. Leia suddenly found herself praying their speeder didn't break down while they were there. With that unpleasant thought, she began ascending back up to civilized Coruscant. She dodged what she thought may have been a hawk bat, hunting for granite slugs which attached themselves to ferrocrete buildings and slowly ate away at the hard material.

Once parked well above most of the heavy traffic, she broke her silence. "So, are we finished?" she asked pointedly. "Have I proven myself?"

The Emperor turned to her. "Princess, this is an exercise. It is not about proving yourself. You will do them until I instruct you otherwise. Is that quite clear?"

Leia took a deep breath, trying to get a better handle on herself. She had to remember that she was a student now; she wasn't the one in charge anymore. "I'm sorry. I-I understand."

"Good. Now take us back. We are," he paused, looking at a readout on the dashboard, "one hundred and twenty-three kilometers from the palace. You have ten minutes to have us in the hangar."

"What? I still can't see!" she yelled, her anger rising. "It would take at _least_ fifteen even if I _could _see!"

"I'm certain you will find a way. Failure leads to punishment. You now have _nine_ minutes. I suggest you hurry." He grinned to himself. _She'll soon learn her place. Until then, lessons to be learned the hard way._

Nine minutes and seventeen seconds later, Leia was gently lowering the speeder to the polished hangar floor; her hair was a tangled bird's nest, whipped into a mess by the speed she had been forced to go. Save for a few near misses, the trip back had been almost flawless. Not good enough, however.

The Emperor stepped out of the speeder. "You're late," he said, not bothering to look at her. "Go to your quarters," he commanded. "When your vision returns, report to my office. As punishment for your failure, today's meals will be forfeited. Perhaps an empty stomach will motivate you to try harder."

Leia didn't bother to argue. She remembered all to well the pain he had caused her yesterday; and that had only been her hand. She could handle a day without food. She'd gone for longer in the Rebellion. _How futile that turned out to be_, she thought absently.

Leia made her way back to her room to wait for her blindness to wear off. She found this slightly more difficult that navigating the busy skyways of Coruscant, however. She doubted that even _with_ sight, she could successfully find her way through the palace's maze of lifts and hallways. It was really a matter of trial and error, not much help from the Force, which got her back to her room.

The room was enormous and lavishly furnished; it was really an apartment more than a bedroom. Roughly a circle twenty or so meters in diameter, the Emperor wasn't lying when he'd said she would live better than she had as princess of Alderaan. Two large panoramic windows wrapped around portions of the room. Not knowing where in the palace her room was situated, she hadn't been able to determine when she'd first seen them if they were real windows or in fact viewscreens with real time video feed of what lay outside. Regardless, it was a spectacular view. Off in the distance, the squat mushroom shape of the Senate. Even further off, the abandoned ruins of the ancient Jedi Temple. Far off to the right of the Temple, she had been able to just make out 500 Republica through the morning clouds. This time of day, though, even _with_ sight, she doubted she would be able to see it.

To the immediate right of her view was the massive Sienar Industries building, headquarters of Sienar Fleet Systems and home to its founder, Raith Sienar. He'd designed some of the most recognizable ships in the galaxy for decades, though he was best known for the Empire's TIE fighter and its variants. The building was easily one of the largest on Coruscant, big enough to comfortably house millions.

When Leia finally returned to her chambers—in the end she had broken down and sought directions from a palace staff member—she wished that she could stare out her window screens the way she always had when her father would bring her to the Capital as a child. While not nearly as beautiful as at night, day-time Coruscant was still a sight to see. She always got lost in the perpetual motion that enshrouded that planet, sometimes watching the airlanes for hours at a time, mesmerized. On any given day, there were one trillion beings going about their lives, most oblivious to what was happening around them. They were just happy to be alive.

The defeat of the Empire would have created wide-spread chaos, costing possibly more lives than the war itself. Taking Coruscant would have been a bloody affair; she couldn't imagine the Empire would surrender its crown jewel easily. Millions could have been lost in that one mission alone. What was she thinking? Did the Rebellion think it could have just killed the Emperor at Endor and just picked up the piece like it was nothing? With the Rebellion all but dead, Leia had been given the opportunity to really think things through to conclusion and that conclusion always ended in death. Even if the Alliance _had_ won, in the end, they would not be loved. Not on Coruscant or any of the other hundreds of worlds that would have been devastated in the attempt to wrest them back from the Empire's clutches.

In truth, despite still maintaining faith in its root cause, she found herself growing ashamed of the Rebellion. It had wrought so much death and destruction, more than she ever prepared herself for. And Luke had told her all about the Republic that she'd fought so desperately to rebuild. He told her of how corruption had eaten it rotten from the inside out, how it had been decaying steadily for years while maintaining a strong exterior. Palpatine, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, had saved the galaxy in his own twisted way. The Republic would have succumbed to the rot and crumbled; countless independent wars would have been fought over the Republic's remains and trillions would have died. As hard as she fought for democracy in the past, she now had to allow herself a glimpse at the truth: democracy on a galactic scale just doesn't work. There are simply too many voices all shouting different things, each making demands from the government that pull it in every direction at once. She had been a senator; she knew how chaotic it could be. And that was _post_-Republic. She shuddered to think of how it had been during the days of the Chancellors. But as a system, she finally understood, the Empire works. There is peace, order; the people are safe.

She had been allowed to watch Palpatine's State of the Empire Address where he announced the defeat of the Rebel Alliance and the start of a New Empire. She saw the countless sea of beings who had turned out at the Senate just hoping to see the Emperor himself. She'd witnessed all the cheers, all the praise. These were the people she was trying to liberate? The galaxy didn't need liberation, it needed fanatical groups to stop causing trouble and let the Empire do its job, do what it was designed to do, help the people, maintain order, bring peace to an entire galaxy. It had been at war for so long, it hadn't been able to fulfill that promise of galactic security. Until now. And the people seemed genuinely happy.

Leia laid herself down on her very large, very comfortable bed and cried. She asked the Force for forgiveness. She asked the families of the slain on both sides for forgiveness. Though she'd never express it out loud, she even begged the Emperor himself for forgiveness. As she lay weeping, she almost thought she heard the Emperor's voice say "_All is forgiven, child._" Before long, she drifted off into a sleep she never knew she needed.

_Lord Arisin?_ the Emperor sent through the void.

_Master?_

_Your sister. She has incredible strength. I would not be surprised if hers matches your own. You are, after all, twins._

_That's wonderful news, Master. I've some disturbing news, myself._

_Oh?_ The Emperor raised an intrigued eyebrow. To any observer he would have appeared to be mulling over some particularly intriguing thoughts.

_I believe there may be a Rebel here, somewhere._

_In the Installation?_ This sort of thing was bound to be commonplace in the weeks and months ahead, the Emperor knew, but to locate a Rebel agent right where his apprentice would be in place to catch him…the Force works in mysterious ways.

_No. I felt him aboard the ship_, Arisin responded.

The Emperor thought a moment. _Be mindful, my young apprentice. Search them out, but do not let on your suspicions to anyone._

_I understand, Master. What should I do once I've found him?_

_Take him alive, if possible. He may know the location of other agents we are unaware of. His loss would be regretful. Kill him only if absolutely necessary. _For all the intelligence the princess had given them, it was entirely likely that she did not possess the identities of _every_ Rebel agent operating within the Empire.

_Of course. He'll be found. Though I fear sabotage may be his priority. He may have already done something._

_Sabotage? This is indeed a dangerous situation developing. I shall meditate on it and contact you with my findings. Until then, I want you to forget the Rebel and focus on your mission. Construction of the HyperGate is taking far too long. Why don't you…encourage them to work faster?_

Arisin smiled so many light-years away. _I'll get on it immediately._

The Emperor pulled away from his apprentice's mind, now alone once more in his darkened office. A single Rebel was hardly anything to be concerned over. Lord Arisin would discover the would-be saboteur and bring him to justice, of this he was certain.

Leia snapped her eyes open, not even realizing she had fallen asleep. She saw by the failing light outside that it was late afternoon. _It'll be dark soon._ It was then that she realized she could see. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she stepped into the room's 'fresher and splashed water on her face. _Now I get to see the Emperor. Goody for me._ She dried her face on what looked to be a very expensive towel and went back into the main room.

Having been given no instructions how to actually reach him, she settled on just going to his office in person. She assumed that's where he'd be.

She opened her door and began to step out into the hallway when she was stopped by two imposing Red Guards standing sentinel outside her chambers.

"Oh," she said, startled. "I wasn't aware I was being guarded. I thought the Emperor trusted me now."

The guard on her left spoke. "It's for your own protection, ma'am." His voice was heavily filtered through the helmet vocoder; she assumed it was to safeguard their identities should anyone overhear them speaking. "You do have free reign of the palace, but as a former Rebel leader, you have many enemies here."

"Ah," she said. "I see your point. Well, I need to see the Emperor."

"Is His Majesty expecting you?" asked the same guard.

"Technically," she said. "I'm supposed to report to him once my eyesight returns and, as long as you two are wearing bright red, I'm pretty sure that's now. I just have no way of contacting him."

"Follow us, ma'am," the other guard said in an identical timbre as his companion. "We'll take you up to him."

"Thank you. That's very nice of you." The trip to Palpatine's office was in complete silence. Strictly speaking, the Red Guard aren't supposed to speak while on duty, except to convey information of great importance. That short conversation with Leia was probably longer than any they had ever had while on the job.

Upon arriving at the Emperor's door, her guards relieved two others of their stations and took their places on either side of the office entrance. Leia continued on through the doorway.

The Emperor sat in his chair, its high back turned to Leia, facing the enormous window wall. Without turning around, he said, "I take it your vision has returned. It really makes you appreciate those who live without, doesn't it?"

"Yes, I suppose you're right. But, even then, I could still feel my way around with the Force. Without it, I would have felt—"

"Crippled," said the Emperor, turning now to face her.

"Yes," she said quietly.

"Now you understand how important your training is. You have a taste for the power within you and now, without it, you will fall. From now on, you will take your exercises more seriously. You will show me respect not only as your Emperor but as your teacher. The quips will end. Dilute your acid tongue. From this point, it will find you only in pain. Save it for those you have been instructed to bring to justice."

She nodded, humbled. "I'm sorry. I promise I'll show more respect."

"Good," the Emperor said. "Because your training will be long and painful and there is no reason to make it any more unpleasant than it already will be."

"Lord Arisin, if you'll follow me, I'll show you our weapons development laboratory." Grath seemed to be desperately seeking Arisin's approval. He stank of fear. He led Arisin into a very large room filled with countless computer terminals, drafting tables, work desks, and various pieces of whirring machinery.

"This is where we—"

"Develop weapons," Arisin interrupted. "Yes, I gathered that much, Grath. Is there anything of particular interest that we may see in the near future?"

"Oh, absolutely, sir." Grath got very excited. "Right this way. We've come up with something that will hopefully reduce the threat of snub-fighters to capital ships."

Arisin followed him into an adjacent room, somewhat smaller than the first but still quite large. Monitors on the wall showed various schematics, readouts, statistics, and energy outputs. In the center of the room, a very large, multifaceted ball hung suspended in what the Sith Lord speculated to be an anti-gravity field. Scientists were swarming all over it, running diagnostics, checking systems, and going through simulations.

As they approached, Arisin saw that it was considerably taller than a Human. He judged about three meters or so.

"We call this the Boom Sphere," said Grath proudly. "You see, a capital ship will be filled with hundreds of these devils. During a battle in which the enemy had released starfighters, the capital ship will position these into the path of oncoming fighters with tractor beams. Each of these facets," he said, tapping one, "releases an energy beam equal to that of a heavy laser-cannon, about as powerful as what's equipped on a standard TIE fighter. There are four hundred and thirty-six identical facets on one Boom Sphere. The spherical design allows the weapon to fire in literally every direction in three-dimensional space. And the sphere fires from every facet at the same time, hitting everything around it."

Arisin listened silently. Not bad, he had to admit to himself. "And how many shots are these things good for?"

"Well, see, that's the draw back," the man said carefully. "On low power, three shots, or one thousand three hundred and eight separate bolts. But on high power, there is only enough power for one burst from each facet. But keep in mind, on high power that is equal to four hundred and thirty-six blasts from a capital grade turbolaser." He put his hand on the ball, patting it proudly. "These are meant to be used in moderation, since they are used up so quickly. And we anticipate some will be destroyed by enemy fire before they are able to activate. Luckily, they are relatively inexpensive to produce and will be turned out en masse once we get all the kinks worked out and a contract drawn up. We're looking at possibly CorTech Industries, Corellia's top production company."

"How long before they would be available to the Fleet?"

Grath thought a moment, scratching his head and scrunching his face. "Best estimate, six months to a year, I suppose. Not long."

"I see," said Arisin. "What else have you got?"

"Ah, alright. Let's move on to our security development lab. That's where we—"

Arisin gave him a look.

"Right…anyway, if you'll follow me, my lord."

They arrived in a huge, loud room, even bigger than the last. It looked more like an assembly plant than a lab, a fact which he shared with Grath.

"This is true. It resembles Mechis III in a lot of ways," he said. Mechis III is an entire planetoid dedicated to droid production. It was rumored the droids had killed their human masters and had taken over, but a steady stream of droids continued to come out of the factories, so few paid the rumors much attention.

"This is not our main laboratory," Grath explained. "The products are designed and tested elsewhere. This is where our creations are given life. Come, I want you to see this." Grath led him across the noisy room to a secluded, open section of floor. A meter high retaining wall enclosed an area roughly the size of the _Millennium_ _Falcon_. The walls and floor of the space, which Arisin guessed was for product testing, was heavily covered in carbon scoring with splashes of what looked suspiciously like blood. In the center of the floor space stood a single droid. A head on legs, really. It looked like a scaled down and very menacing version of the AT-ST scout walker. It had widely spaced legs, ending in splayed talons. Its large head sported a wide crest, crowned with small blasters of some kind. A large cannon hung below its head, which sported a dozen or so eyes and various other sensors. The droid was quite intimidating. He imagined those legs were capable of impressive speeds.

"This," said Grath, beaming with pride, "is our newest security droid design. We call it the RPD, or 'Raptor Patrol Droid.' Those things on the top there are stunners. They are able to move independently, allowing the droid to take out several targets at once. They can also be calibrated to take down most species which may require more or less voltage than Humans. The crest itself can be used as a blaster shield for organic security. The large gun you see on the bottom there is a shock net launcher, though we designed it so that it can be quickly and easily replaced with a blaster, stunner, or even an ion cannon." He walked up to the droid and placed a hand on the crest, leaning against it. "As you can see, it's roughly shoulder height on the average Human. The eyes here," he said, motioning at the many sensors, "can see in multiple spectrums, including the infrared and ultraviolet."

He patted the legs. "These can propel it along at around thirty kilometers per hour on flat ground, faster than most things on two legs. The claws there give the RPD excellent traction on most surfaces and can be magnetized. You could even use these to patrol the outer hull of a starship or space station in deep space. We plan to add more modifications, allowing them to even make simple repairs on ships' hulls."

"That's impressive, Grath. When can we expect these to be mass produced?" Arisin didn't take his eyes off the droid. It was spectacular.

"Immediately, sir. In fact, we are currently in negotiations with Arakyd Manufacturers Inc. We should see production within the month, availability within two months. We have a number of fully functional units already employed around the Installation."

"Really? I would like to see them sometime. But now, why don't you show me something in a starfighter?"

"Oh, certainly, sir. Our fighter bay is on the other side of the Installation. There's a transport station right over here," he said, walking towards a far exit. Minutes later, they were stepping off the maglev transport and into a hangar large enough to comfortably house an Imperial Star Destroyer.

The floor was empty save for a few starfighter prototypes. Some of them were very interesting indeed.

Arisin walked up to the one nearest the entrance. "What's this?" he asked.

"This is one of our newest creations. It is the Delta 12, based off of the old Delta 7, the so-called Jedi Starfighter of the Old Republic," Grath explained to the Sith Lord. "They went out of use about twenty years or so ago, but they were so elegant and efficient, we thought they deserved a second chance. We call these our Star Defenders. No doubt you've noticed the design is similar in shape to the Star Destroyer." Grath walked down the length of the triangular ship. "As you can see, it's roughly the same size as the Z-95 Headhunters or the Incom T-65 X-Wings. One major difference between these and the Delta 7s is their hyperdrive. Up until about seventeen years ago, most starfighters weren't equipped with their own hyperdrive engines. They were forced to attach to hyperdrive rings that were placed in orbit. We've obviously solved the problem since then. When in production, these should have a Class .05 hyperdrive, faster than anything else out there." He patted the ship's hull they way a proud master would his pet.

"And when will that be?" Arisin asked.

"Not quite yet. There are some bugs in the targeting system that we're trying to work out. I'd say six months or so."

"And what's this?" Arisin asked, moving on to the next ship.

"This is the new TIE-Interceptor/Advanced. We designed this jointly with Sienar Fleet Systems. You can see we took the two-prong wing design and fused them together into one. We've upgraded the weapons and added a missile tube here," he said, pointing to the left wing brace, "and a six-missile magazine here," he pointed to the rear of the ship at the extended cockpit and engine mount. "We've also added a shield generator and a moderate hyperdrive. Now, it can't be used frequently or it'll burn out, but it's good if a pilot is caught away from its base ship and either can't return in time or the base ship is destroyed."

"The point of TIEs being so basic is to cut down the cost of production," Arisin pointed out. "The Emperor will never authorize the expense of all these modifications." He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Ah, that's the beauty of the thing," said Grath happily. Clearly discussing his toys chased away the fear he may have otherwise felt in the Sith Lord's presence. "With recent technological advances, we can make these upgrades and build the ships for almost the same price as before. There should be less than a five percent increase in cost per ship." Arisin could tell the man was deeply proud of his work.

"Very nice, Grath. The Emperor will be pleased to hear this."

"We've designed something else," said Grath. "Something with him in mind."

"Oh?"

"Yes. We've redesigned the aging _Lambda_-class shuttle. This new _Gamma_-class has faster hyperdrive engines, a more powerful shield, and near indestructible hull material. Once produced, they will be the safest ships in the galaxy."

"'Will be?'" Arisin narrowed his eyes. "It hasn't been built yet?"

"Oh, it has. Or rather, one has. But you must understand, this is an incredibly expensive ship to build. It's completely ready for production, but until we find a cheaper way of building them, I'm afraid it will remain an idea and a prototype."

"You said one has been built. Is it fully functional?"

"Absolutely."

"Show me."

Shortly thereafter, Arisin was show into the experimental aircraft hangar, which was dominated by a familiar and very threatening ship.

The over all design was that of the _Lambda_-class Imperial shuttle; it had a dorsal fin and bent wings, which folded up to the side when in its landed position. He had flown in one during his mission on Endor and again when he and his Master had gone to Korriban and Coruscant. However, that was where the similarities ended. In addition to the main dorsal fin, which had been cut to a fraction of the _Lambda_'s height, two additional fins were placed on the ship's back, one on either side of the main fin. Landed, it looked like some multi-pronged, very deadly weapon.

The ship's skin was dark, almost black. Arisin reached out and ran his fingers over the surface.

"What is this?" he asked. "It's not durasteel, or anything else I'm familiar with, for that matter."

Grath stepped forward. "It's something new. We've been working on it for quite some time, actually. This right here is what makes the ship so expensive to produce," he said rapping his knuckles on the metal, which rang strangely to Arisin's ears. "This is a molecularly strengthened quantum armor. It is virtually indestructible, able to withstand the energy of a super nova or even the most intense atmospheric pressures."

"You've said 'indestructible' twice now." Before Grath could respond, Arisin's lightsaber was brandished and ignited. He slashed, attempting to bite into the ship's right wing. Amazingly, the energy blade sat pressed against the surface, popping and squealing in protest. Arisin extinguished the blade and surveyed the wing. The spot where the blade had pressed against it was red hot but quickly cooling. The metal seemed to be able to absorb and disperse energy with almost perfect efficiency.

"As I was saying, sir. Sharpened, the material can shear through Corusca gems, previously known as the strongest material in the galaxy. The only thing capable of destroying this armor is right out there," he said, pointing to the closed hangar doors. "Only the intense gravity of a black hole can hurt it."

"Hmm," said Arisin. "Interesting."

"Yes, we're quite proud of it. It's really too bad it may never be made."

Arisin turned to look at Grath. "You're right, it won't be made."

"Excuse me, sir?" asked a very confused Grath. "I'm not sure I understand your meaning."

"This ship right here," said Arisin, putting a hand on the smooth dark metal, "is to be the only one of its kind. I'll be taking it with me when I leave. This is now the Emperor's shuttle."

"But—I mean, no more?" Grath was visibly upset.

"This will be the only one of its kind. Is that understood? Unless you don't feel the Emperor should have the 'safest ship in the galaxy'." Arisin raised a questioning eyebrow.

"No!" said Grath quickly. "Of course not. I mean, yes, he should have it. Naturally." He gave a nervous smile.

"Good. We're on the same page, then."

"Oh, absolutely, sir." He wiped some sweat from his brow with his sleeve. Even Tarkin hadn't made him this nervous. _Tarkin wasn't a Sith Lord_, Grath reminded himself.

"Grath," Arisin said.

"Y-yes, sir?" He turned back around to face Arisin, who stared hard at him.

"I think it's time you showed me the whole reason I'm here. I want to see this HyperGate device."

"Um," Grath sputtered. "It's not finished yet, sir."

"Yes, I know. I'm here to speed up the work. The Emperor expects a finished product by one week from today."

Grath's eyes widened. "But, sir! There's at least two weeks worth of construction left! Remember, we had to build _two_ for it to be of any use!"

"I suggest you find a way to finish, Grath. The Emperor will wish to speak to the Chief Supervisor if it isn't. I believe that would be you," he motioned at Grath with a gloved hand.

Grath swallowed hard. "O-of course, my lord. We'll, uh, need to go to a shuttle bay. Right this way." The thought of confronting the Emperor with bad news had severely thrown him off balance.

Within ten minutes, they were lifting off of the surface. Arisin saw the Installation rotating slowly below them, the skeletal Death Star in fixed orbit off in the distance. They flew towards what, to Arisin, looked like a brighter-than-usual star. As they continued toward it, however, it steadily grew dimmer, until its shape began to form. It was a gigantic ring.

The gateway was enormous, easily the largest construction project in history. Already filling up most of the view, they were still several hundred _thousand_ kilometers away. The closer they came, the more detail Arisin could make out. He saw that a small section, probably several hundred kilometers, had yet to be built, and much of the hull plating still needed to be attached. Even incomplete, it was an impressive sight to take in.

Arisin broke the silence. "Tell me about Project HyperGate. I want to know as much as I can."

Grath looked over from the pilot's seat. The HyperGate loomed ever closer. "Well, when complete, it will be over twenty thousand kilometers in diameter, capable of transporting anything you can think of, not excluding entire planets, to any other HyperGate in the galaxy within seconds.

"The HyperGate network will include at least ten gates. The gate is equipped with an extremely fast .03 class hyperdrive, making it quick and easy to position anywhere in the galaxy.

"In order to create and sustain a stable wormhole, you must have incredible power. The gate's main reactor is twice as big as the second Death Star and puts out more energy in one week than even the hottest stars can in ten thousand years, and that's at near one hundred percent efficiency. This is the single most efficient machine ever built.

"Quantum physics is something I personally know very little about, so I'm afraid I can't explain the wormhole to you." They were now so close that the ring itself could no longer be seen, only the space in the middle and the large power core and engine platform which trailed behind it. As they passed through the ring, Arisin couldn't help buy gawk at the marvel. With a device like this, the Empire would be unstoppable.

Leia sat on the carpeted floor of her room, eyes closed in concentration. She was attempting to tie a knot in a length of string with the Force. It was an exercise the Emperor had given her for when they weren't training. He said that that particular feat took more concentration than counting all the stars in the night sky. While she wasn't sure if that was true, it was nonetheless proving to be quite difficult. Supposedly it would help her focus. She was so focused, in fact, that she didn't feel the presence at the door until it chimed.

Eyes snapping open, she stood and made her way to the door. With a wave of her hand, the door release was triggered and the door slid open.

"Are you entirely certain this is the princess's room? You have been known to be wrong on occasion, you know. Remember that disaster on Hoth?"

"C-3PO! R2! What are you doing here?" Leia had never been so surprised in her life.

"Oh!" said Threepio, who turned, surprised, to look at Leia. "Your Highness! Are you ever a sight for sore visual processors!"

Artoo twittled something.

"No, I will not be quiet, Artoo! We were held in ghastly conditions!"

There were beeps and whistles, followed by a very rude sound that Artoo was prone to make when he was worked up.

"Oh! Well, I may be sensitive, but at least _I_ don't have a pathetic hero complex. Besides, I'm much more fragile than you."

Artoo started to say something but Leia interrupted. "Guys! What are you doing here? Come in." She stood aside and allowed them to enter the room.

"The Emperor sent us," said Threepio. "And oh, what a pleasant man he is. So polite and well spoken. He kept looking at me strangely, though." He leaned close to Leia and lowered his volume. "And I get the distinct impression he and Artoo have met previously."

Artoo bleeped and whistled again.

"What? What do you mean he _does_ already know you? Artoo-Deetoo, what aren't you telling me?"

Artoo let out a flourish of unintelligible pops, buzzes, and beeps, followed by a long, mournful whistle.

"Well, I must say, that is the wildest story you have ever told. Who taught you to lie like that? Certainly _I_ wasn't created by Darth Vader. And you never fought in the Clone Wars! Utterly ridiculous," he said, bringing a metal fist down hard on Artoo's dome. "Besides, you've certainly had your memory wiped since the Clone Wars. How would you remember all of that?"

Threepio listened as Artoo explained. "What do you mean you've never had a memory wipe? Of course you have!" He turned to Leia. "I'm sorry, Mistress Leia. It seems Artoo's processors have corroded. He has just told me a fantastic story." He turned back to Artoo. "None of which could be true!" he said, giving the little droid a kick.

Leia put a hand on Threepio's tarnished gold shoulder. "Threepio, it's all true."

"What?" For a moment, Threepio's eyes actually brightened in surprised, something Leia never knew he could do.

"Everything Artoo just told you. It's all true. Vader built you when he was a child. And Artoo served with him during the Clone Wars when he was still Anakin Skywalker." She paused briefly. "And he's mine and Luke's father."

There was a short pause as Threepio process all he'd just been told. "Artoo is your father? Oh, M'lady, I think we had better get you to the infirmary quickly. You seem to have picked up a slight flutter!"

Leia laughed out loud. "No, Threepio. Luke is my brother and Anakin Skywalker, Darth Vader, was our father."

"Oh. _Oh_! And he built me and was Artoo's master?"

Artoo whistled.

"I'm sorry, Artoo's _friend_." He shook his head as best his stiff frame would allow. Never had Leia come across a droid able to look so distressed.

"I'm afraid so, Threepio. So why did the Emperor send you here?"

"He felt you may wish to have us. To make you feel more at home. You know, he's much more generous than people let on."

Yes," she said distantly. "Very generous."

"Your Majesty, the deadline for the HyperGate is tomorrow and we've still no word of its progress. Shall I send Chief Supervisor Grath a reminder?" Sate Pestage was sitting in the Emperor's office for their weekly State of the Empire meeting.

"No, I am confident Lord Arisin will be successful," the Emperor told his Grand Vizier. "He contacted me days ago reporting that construction was nearing completion." Palpatine looked forward to seeing the HyperGates in action. "If all goes smoothly, he will be back on Coruscant in a few days' time." Arisin had reported back on some very interesting new technologies. Palpatine looked forward to a more detailed report upon his return.

"Well that's greatly needed good news. I've some disturbing news just given to me this morning," Pestage related grimly.

"Oh?" The Emperor shifted in his seat.

"It would seem seven Star Destroyers; one Super, five _Imperial_, and an old _Victory_, have been destroyed. All seven's power cores mysteriously overloaded and went critical approximately nine hours ago. All seven went critical within a twelve-minute time span, too close for coincidence. Imperial Intelligence believes Rebel saboteurs are responsible."

The Emperor's face contorted with outrage. "Chaos take them!" he spat angrily. "When he arrived at the Maw, Lord Arisin sensed a traitor amongst the crew of the _Executor_. He believed sabotage may have been the goal." Palpatine puzzled over this a moment. "But why did the _Executor_ not get hit with the rest? Certainly I would have felt a disturbance if it Lord Arisin had been destroyed, and he would have related any disturbance to me immediately."

"Perhaps whatever signal the Rebels were using to coordinate the attack was scrambled in the Maw," Pestage suggested. "As it is, even our most powerful transmitters have a hard time broadcasting through all the interference in the area."

"Yes," said the Emperor. "That must be it. Which means Lord Arisin will still have time to flush out this Rebel. I must contact him immediately. We will finish this later."

"Your Majesty." Pestage stood and bowed deeply, walking quickly out of the room.

_Lord Arisin?_ Palpatine called out.

A moment later he felt his apprentice accept contact. _Yes, Master? Is something the matter?_

_Several hidden Rebels have managed to destroy seven Imperial ships. It is possible the Rebel you felt was unable to receive the signal to act. You must find this Rebel before it is too late. Take him alive._

_Understood, Master. I'll find him before the Coruscanti sun sets._

_Of that, I have no doubt, Apprentice. Good hunting._ Palpatine smiled as he withdrew from the connection, but secretly he was worried. The Rebels, feeble as they were, were capable of causing vast amounts of trouble, particularly if, in their desperate state, they resorted to such suicide tactics as overloading the power cores of the vessels they were aboard.

Arisin had already been on his way to see Grath when his Master had contacted him. As he strode down the corridor, he suddenly felt a twinge of danger in the back of his mind. It was then that he heard the heavy footfalls and the whine of servomotors working powerful legs. He unhooked his lightsaber just as the source of the sound rounded the corner up ahead. It was an RPD. Grath had mentioned that several were in use around the Installation. Still, there was something off about this one.

Once it had fully come around the corner, it stopped, staring at Arisin with its twelve unblinking eyes.

"I am authorized to be here. Go about your business," he said forcefully, not having any idea if it was programmed to respond to voice commands. As if to answer his unspoken question, all of the gun barrels rotated to face him and the droid began to advance.

In an emerald flash, Arisin's blade erupted from the hilt and sprang into a defensive position, just in time to block a flurry of stun bolts. He deflected them back at the droid, but they slapped harmlessly against its metal skin and the bolts kept coming. Soon the hallway was filled with the smell of burnt ozone and scorched plating.

Arisin used the Force to rip a section of paneling from the wall and use it as a shield between the RPD and himself. Then he began to advance, intending to block the stunners until he was close enough to issue a fatal blow. Seeing this new obstacle, the droid remained stationary, concentrating its fire on the metal plate.

Stun bolts thwacked against the durasteel panel again and again. The metal was beginning to warp and glow a faint red. He was now only two meters from the halted droid, which continued the onslaught. Arisin raised his blade, preparing to cleave the metal monster in two. Suddenly, a powerful clawed leg ripped the wall panel from his Force grip and threw it to the side. He was caught so far off guard that he was unable to dodge the stun net shot at him a split-second later.

The impact of the net sent him flying back a meter or so, landing him hard on his back, arms bound to his sides. He saw his lightsaber on the ground some three meters away. Not that he could do much with his hands trapped somewhere near his hips. He struggled against the fine mesh weave of the net, but it seemed the more he fought, the tighter he became tangled. And on top of all that, the net was issuing low voltage shocks to exposed parts of his body, presently his face and neck. Though not enough to kill, they were, to say the least, uncomfortable.

The RPD, sensing that its quarry had been thoroughly neutralized, began clomping towards the bundle that held the Sith Lord, its talons clanking on the metal deck.

Arisin lay perfectly still, watching and waiting for the droid's next move. It stepped up to him and tilted its overgrown head down to determine that he was, indeed, incapacitated. Satisfied, it raised one very large foot and attempted to bring it down with crushing force on Arisin's head. He waited until the last possible second to roll away, trusting in the Force to time it just right. The RPD's foot went smashing into the floor and its metal talons embedded themselves into the plating. It extracted its foot and tried again. And again, Arisin managed to move out of the way with only centimeters to spare. Greatly immobilized by the netting, he knew he couldn't keep this up long. As the droid raised its foot for the third time, Arisin got an idea. The foot came down and Arisin rolled just a bit slower than before. The metal claws caught on the mesh net and the foot's momentum sheared through it on its way down. He tore the netting further and Arisin was now free.

Not wasting a second, he threw the droid back with the Force while simultaneously calling his lightsaber to his waiting hand. Before the droid could recover, he had closed the gap between them and brought the glowing emerald blade down through its left leg. Unbalanced, it toppled to the ground. Arisin then lopped off the crest of stunners before plunging the blade into its massive head. It shuddered slightly then lay still.

Arisin found the droid's access panel and opened it. He pulled out his personal datapad and connected it to the droid's processor, hoping to find some answers as to why it had attacked him. He had it run a self-diagnostic and found something very interesting. It seemed someone had accessed its programming not twenty minutes before the attack. Apparently whoever it was had also turned off its logic circuit and reprogrammed it to seek out and destroy someone matching a very detailed description of _him_. _The Rebel_. It had to be. There was no other explanation. His master was right. He must act quickly.

Sprinting to the shuttle bay, he contacted Admiral Piett aboard the _Executor_.

"Admiral! Someone has sabotaged the ship. Evacuate immediately!" he ordered as he ran.

"_Sir? Sabotage?_" Piett answered a moment later.

"Yes. I've just been attacked by a reprogrammed security droid and I've learned that seven Star Destroyers have been destroyed recently due to Rebel sabotage." He turned a corner and pushed past two startled technicians. "I sensed a Rebel agent aboard ship when we first arrived but I didn't consider him a threat until now."

"_You're saying there's a Rebel aboard this ship _now_?_"

"No," said Arisin. "He's down here. But I'm certain he's already done something to the ship. As a precaution, get everyone down here now. And send me a list of all personnel sent down to the surface within the last three days. You can exclude anyone who has served in the Navy for more than a year. This person will have been added in the last few months."

"_Sir?_"

"I'm going to find the Rebel, Admiral."

"_Yes, sir. I'll have that information sent to you immediately._"

"Thank you. And Admiral Piett?"

"_Yes, sir?_"

"Be careful."

"_And you, sir. Piett, out._"

He was nearing the shuttle bay assigned to the _Executor_ crew. He figured whoever this Rebel was, he would be wanting to leave as soon as he could. He reached out with the Force, expanding his sphere of awareness. The Rebel was near. And he was apprehensive. He must already know of the droid's failure. He was looking for escape. Arisin sensed something else, as well. This Rebel, whoever he was, was strong in the Force. He was untrained, possibly even unaware of his potential. The Emperor would _definitely_ want this one brought to him more or less intact.

His datapad beeped as a transmission from the _Executor_'s main computer began downloading. Names scrolled down the screen, around thirty in all. He was confident one was the Rebel.

He went through the list, name by name, profile by profile. He was waiting for a name, a face, anything, that seemed to have more of an effect on him than the others. He found that in Kresh L'Arrad. Though he wasn't the latest person to join the ship's crew, something about him just felt off. Mid-thirties, close-cropped beard, he looked just like anyone else. There was nothing to set him apart from the rest of the crew, but a twinge in the Force told Arisin that this was the man he was after. The Rebel.

Arisin took out his comm. "Admiral, belay the order to evacuate. He knows he's failed. He's going to try to flee back to the ship. He's probably cancelled whatever he did. He's not ready to die."

"_Did you find out who it is, sir?_"

"Ensign Kresh L'Arrad," Arisin answered. "I doubt that's his real name, though. I'll soon have him in custody and we'll come back to the ship."

"_Right, sir. I'll have a cell prepared and waiting for him in the brig._"

"Good. Arisin, out." Now to find Ensign L'Arrad.

He entered the shuttle bay, which bristled with activity. _He's in here, I can feel it._ Arisin had an idea just crazy enough to work. He discretely moved over to a wall console and locked down every exit except the one he himself guarded. No one seemed to notice. _Good._

"I need everyone's attention over here _now_," he yelled above the noise. All motion ceased. The bay became silent. Hundreds of eyes were on him. "There is a Rebel in our midst," he said bluntly. "Right here in this hangar, he is posing as Ensign Kresh L'Arrad. If you know him, do your duty and report his whereabouts to me. All exits are locked. He is in here and this is the only way out," he motioned behind him. "Other than that, of course." He motioned to the shielded bay opening with the infinity of space beyond its shimmering blue force field.

The bay was filled with hushed conversation. From what he made out, no one knew this Ensign L'Arrad. He felt the Rebel's heart speed up. He was scared. With good reason.

Minutes passed and no one approached. "Alright. The hard way, then." He began dismissing people, one by one, thinning the herd, making the Rebel easier to spot. "Give yourself up, L'Arrad," Arisin called after releasing a group of twenty or so. "I promise you, you will not be killed. Not here and not by my hand."

"You lie!" The voice cried out from a crowd ten meters directly ahead of Arisin.

A large group began backing away from the man who had shouted. Standing alone now, the Rebel showed no fear, but radiated it in vast quantities.

"Kresh L'Arrad, I presume," said Arisin, approaching the man. "Something tells me that isn't your real name."

"My name," said the man, "Is Kyle Katarn."

Arisin was taken aback. He certainly wasn't expecting a Rebel celebrity. "You are _the_ Kyle Katarn?" Katarn was a well-known name within the Rebel Alliance. He had played a pivotal role in the capture of the plans for the first Death Star.

"I am," Katarn said, "And you were once Luke Skywalker."

"Yes," said Arisin calmly. "I was. But I am much more now. Look around you. The Rebellion has failed. It was hopeless from the beginning. I see that now. You should, too. Millions have died needlessly on both sides. Now," said Arisin carefully, "you can turn yourself in peacefully and I will take you to the Emperor, or," he unhooked his lightsaber, "I can take you by force. You will be taken alive and presented before His Majesty regardless. However, were you to choose option two, I cannot guarantee it would be completely intact." Arisin took note that the entire time, the bay had emptied quietly through the open door behind him and that he and Katarn were now the only two left. On the far side of the bay sat the Emperor's new shuttle; it had been moved there for him to take back to Coruscant.

Katarn produced a blaster from some hidden holster and brandished it at Arisin. No doubt he knew anything he threw at the Sith would be easily deflected. Perhaps he hoped to be killed by a stray bolt?

Arisin ignited his saber in warning.

Katarn still had the blaster leveled at the Sith Lord. Then he did something completely unexpected; he dropped the blaster and kicked it away, putting his hands above his head. He was giving up.

"You made a wise choice, Katarn." Arisin approached the other man and pointed him in the direction of the shuttle. "Walk."

Katarn did as he was told.

Arisin commed Piett. "Admiral."

"_Sir?_"

"I've captured the Rebel. Kyle Katarn."

"_Katarn?_"

Puzzled, Arisin asked, "You know of him?"

There was a pause. "_He served on one of my ships, sir, a number of years ago. He was an Imperial officer. If you are on your way back, sir, I should like to meet your shuttle personally._"

"Of course. We'll be there in five minutes. Arisin, out."

Minutes later, they were being drawn into the shuttle bay of the massive Star Destroyer. Arisin glimpsed the admiral approaching as he landed the ship on the gleaming hangar deck. He looked furious. As the gangplank lowered, Admiral Piett didn't wait for its occupants to exit; he stormed into the cabin to see the traitor for himself.

"You are a disgrace to the Empire, Katarn!" the Admiral exploded with an anger Arisin didn't believe possible from the man. "I mentored you, you ungrateful dog! To do something like this…it's the deepest insult I've ever received! It will mean execution for you, do you know that?"

Katarn said nothing, staring at the fuming admiral.

"Admiral?" Arisin had been watching from the cockpit entrance.

"I'm sorry, sir. I had to see him," Piett explained. "He was stationed aboard one of my ships when he was a stormtrooper. I took him under my wing."

"It's alright. We'll get him to the brig, then—" A slight shudder stopped Arisin cold. "Are you expecting a hyperspace jump?" he asked Piett.

"No, sir," Piett said, puzzled.

"Then why are the hyperdrive engines powering up?" He turned to Katarn. "You!"

Katarn smiled maniacally. "I would die for my cause!" he cried out. "Would _you_?"

Arisin leapt back into the pilot's seat. "Strap in, Admiral! We're leaving!"

He took the shuttle up and out of the bay, just in time to see the great ship leap into hyperspace. He watched sensor screens. They showed the ship exit hyperspace just a thousand kilometers from one of the black holes' event horizon. Within moments, the ship disappeared from the sensors, ripped apart by hypergravity.

"Piett," he called somberly. "Come here."

A moment later, the man stepped into the cockpit. "Yes, sir? Did you catch their vector? Where did he send them?"

"Yes, I did," Arisin told him grimly. "He sent them into a black hole. I'm sorry, but your crew is dead; the _Dark Hand_—the _Executor_—is gone."

Piett paled. He looked like he was going to be sick. "All those men," he said, trailing off. "They had families. They thought they were safe. The war is over." He lowered himself awkwardly into one of the flight chairs, looking on the verge of collapse. He looked Arisin directly in the eye. "Lord Arisin, I am not a violent or hateful man, but I want that—_scum_—back there to suffer. To suffer the same as the thousands of families will suffer when I have to tell them how their sons and husbands died." A single tear rolled down his cheek. "I want him to know the names of every soul aboard that ship before he dies."

Arisin nodded. "I think that can be arranged, Admiral. Your crew was the finest in the Fleet and will be missed greatly."

"Thank you, sir."

"Now," said Arisin, turning back to face the stars. "Let's go home."

**_It's finished! Now stay tuned for the sequel, "Return of the Sith", which I will begin editing and uploading immediately. Thank you to my readers and all of your amazing support. I never imagined this story would be as popular as it turned out to be. May the Force be with you!_**

**_-JOSH  
><em>**


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